


Don't Tell

by FrankieFandom



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, hurt!Casey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:27:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankieFandom/pseuds/FrankieFandom
Summary: Some secrets are too hard to bear.





	1. More Questions Than Answers

**Author's Note:**

> Dawson and Casey have recently got together but they have gone public. This ignores the firehouse closure and head injury storyline. Sensitive issues will be addressed.

Their shift was over and Severide had hoped to catch Casey before he left the station but he'd disappeared as soon as the clock had hit 8am. Not unusual for the truck lieutenant nowadays.

"Kelly?" Boden called over as Severide shut his locker door. "Do you have minute?"

"Sure Chief." He followed Boden into his office. "What's up?"

"Was hoping you could tell me," Boden replied as he sat down heavily in his chair.

Severide remained standing. "Chief?"

"Casey," Boden said simply.

"Ah…" Severide had been wondering himself.  
  
Casey hadn't been himself for the last few weeks, nowhere near himself, but every time Severide attempted to approach him the man came up with some sort of excuse, just like he came up with an excuse every time anyone asked him to do something, to join in with drinks at Molly's, even to have lunch with the others whilst on shift. He was avoiding everyone, secluding himself in his office on shift and ignoring messages when he was not. Severide had even questioned Dawson on the matter but he got nowhere, apparently it was none of his business, Shay had also received the same response when she came to quiz Dawson.

"Your guess is as good as mine then?" Boden presumed.

Severide shrugged miserably. "Don't know what it could be, maybe something with his mom? I dunno… he's never been forthcoming when it comes to his family… maybe it's something to do with Dawson, they've not been coming to work together this last week or so… I really don't know."

"Suppose we just continue to…"

"Keep an eye on him." Severide finished with a sigh. "Yeah… suppose so."

"He needs to get his act together, sharpen up and smarten up," Boden stated.

"You spoken to him?" he questioned.

"Last shift," Boden replied, "Says he's fine."

"Course he does."

"He looks exhausted, ill even," Boden replied.

"I know." No-one had missed Casey's change of appearance; he usually kempt looks were now scruffy and worn. He'd neglected himself lately. He had dark heavy circles under his eyes and Severide suspected he'd lost weight by the way his polo top had begun to hang off his frame.

"If he keeps going on like this…"

"I know… I'll try and speak to him, try and see what's going on."   
  
But Severide never managed to speak to Casey. He didn't take any calls, not unusual these days, and when Severide turned up at his house he was unwelcome, Casey had explained that he was just on his way out to a construction job but his truck had still been parked outside of the house ten minutes later. But Severide knew he'd get nowhere by pushing Casey.

Boden was forced to send Casey home during their next shift, his head wasn't in it. Casey hadn't even protested, he had just walked away in silence.

* * *

It was 8pm when Severide hammered on Casey's front door. Casey's truck was outside, the house lights were on, but he wasn't answering the door, not even to give Severide another excuse.

"Come on Case... I got pizza and beer!" he called into the house. "Pizza's getting cold and beer's getting warm… Casey?"  
  
He was getting nowhere. He fumbled for his set of keys, pulled them out of his pocket. Not answering the door for pizza and beer constituted as an emergency, right?   
  
"Matt you better be decent 'cause I'm coming in!"

The house was a mess. There were dirty clothes strewn everywhere, barely eaten takeaway containers littered about, empty cans, empty bottles. Severide wrinkled his nose up at the old vomit he almost stepped in as he walked further into the usually well-kept house. The place stunk of alcohol and stale food, it was enough to make Severide want to gag.

"Case?"

There was a clatter and a thump from the bathroom. Glass shattered.

"Casey?!" Panic was etched in his voice.

Gurgling. Was that choking?

"Matt?!"

The bathroom door was locked. Or was Casey behind it?

"Case, I'm coming in!"

Severide slammed his shoulder against the door until the hinges gave way. He pulled the door away and gasped at the sight that was revealed.

"Oh God…"

Casey was lying in a pool of his own vomit. He was thrashing around. No. He was seizing. Only the whites of his eyes could be seen as his body convulsed and his lungs gasped for air. Vomit flooded out of his mouth. Shattered glass was lying around him, making shallow cuts in his skin as his body continued to thrash. Blood ran together with other bodily fluids and alcohol. An empty pill bottle could be seen nearby.

Severide knelt down and whipped his phone out.

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

"I need an ambulance, my friend's overdosed. He's seizing."

Severide was by Casey's side, he'd turned him over, his flailing limbs made it a challenging feat but he'd managed it, all he could do was wait for the seizure to subside, make sure that Casey didn't choke on his own vomit, didn't choke on his own tongue, make sure he didn't stop breathing.

It felt like an eternity but eventually the ambulance arrived. Severide picked up the empty pill bottle. Prozac. Since when had Casey been taking anti-depressants? The shattered pieces of glass were easily recognised; a bottle of whiskey. The scene was all too obvious but he didn't want to think about it, didn't want to admit to himself that his best friend had just tried to take his own life, and he just might have succeeded because he was sat by him in the ambulance now, lights and sirens blaring as the rig raced to the hospital. Casey was still seizing on and off, they would subside and just as Severide began to feel relieved Casey began to convulse again.

Severide stood behind the swinging trauma bay doors as the doctors worked frantically to reverse the damage Casey had inflicted on himself. He watched as his clothes were cut off and pulled away. He watched as blood was taken, as yet another IV line was inserted into Casey's pale arm. He watched as they fed him activated charcoal through the tube in his nose. He watched as the heart monitor showed sporadic beats. He watched as they suctioned vomit as his body lurched and jerked. But soon he was pulled away from the doors, away from Casey and he couldn't watch anymore.

* * *

It had been nearly an hour before anyone came to find Severide, he'd almost worn a hole in the waiting room floor with the all the pacing. "How is he?" Severide questioned as he stormed over to the doctor he recognised from the trauma bay.

"He's stable," the ER doctor replied. "Are you family?"

"You'll not get in touch with his family easily, I'm listed as his next of kin." Casey had asked Severide not long after Hallie died if he could change his details and name Severide in case of any emergencies, in case he was incapacitated and couldn't make his own medical decisions. "I'm his best friend and… and I didn't even know he was taking anti-depressants."

"His medical record shows he's been on them for a while, which makes us question this suicide attempt, according to his doctors notes the pills were working, has something happened recently?"

Severide shook his head. "He's been different, been off for the last few weeks but… I… I don't know, I don't know what's happened… don't think anything's happened, it's like he's just… like his walls have just collapsed."

"His walls?" the doctor frowned.

"He's a firefighter," Severide explained simply, "He just locks everything up, he takes things so hard but… but in the last few weeks it's like he's not cared about anything."

"About himself?"

"No, he's always put everyone above him but recently it's like he doesn't give a damn about anyone else, never mind himself," he replied.

"He's getting a bed in the ICU because we're worried about toxicity from the serotonin overdose. He'll be on a seventy-two hour hold. He'll have a psych assessment and we'll see where we go from there," the doctor explained.

"He tried to kill himself… never once thought he'd do that. He's the strongest man I've ever known."

"That's usually the way," the doctor commented, "You can see him now before he's taken up to the ICU, he won't be awake for some time."

"Physically he's going to be ok?"

"He should be, like I said, I'm worried about serotonin syndrome, a toxic build up from the pills he took, so he's going  to be heavily monitored for the next twenty-four hours. He's been given some benzodiazepines and we're giving him IV fluids to keep him hydrated. Once that time has passed he should be in the clear."

* * *

Casey had been put on a seventy-two hour psychiatric hold. He was on suicide watch, checked on by a member of staff every fifteen minutes. When he was conscious he would be assessed and his doctors would discuss what treatment, if any, would be best for him, but for now Casey was oblivious to the world. He'd been declared incompetent in matters of his own medical care because of the suicide attempt. Severide now held power of attorney. Just as Casey would if he himself was ever incapacitated, the risks of their job were high and neither of them had wanted to be unprepared for the all too real prospect of injury.

Severide pulled a stool up to Casey's bedside. There were black smudges on Casey's pale face, black smudges on the white hospital gown. He saw now how much weight Casey had lost recently. He was starting to shiver violently and it wasn't from the cold. The pills had done a number on his system.

"Why'd you do it Casey? Why didn't I know what was wrong? Why didn't anyone know?" He took hold of Casey's hand, he was shivering under his grip, almost jerking but the doctor had assured Severide that he was doing all right given the circumstances.

It wasn't long until a man dressed in white entered the curtained area. "We're moving him up to the ICU now," the porter informed him, "You'll be able to visit in the morning."

* * *

Casey opened his eyes. The lids felt like lead, he felt nauseous and hot all over, his vision was hit by an onslaught of bright lights and a familiar sterile smell assaulted his nostrils. "No…" he groaned, scrunched his eyes shut and only now did he become aware of the heavy weight on his chest, of the persistent voice calling his name.

"Matt can you hear me?" the doctor repeated his question. Casey was rousing slowly but surely, his eyes opened once again, he was slowly looking around now, taking in his surroundings, disappointment was evident on his face. "Matt you're in the ICU at Lakeshore. Do you remember what happened?" he questioned.

"No..." he muttered once more. "Shouldn't be here..."

"You remember what happened then?" The doctor presumed from his reaction. "You overdosed."

"Why..." Casey wasn't listening to the doctor, hadn't even noticed that Severide was stood by his side, that he'd been by his side since visiting hours had begun that morning.

"Why did you overdose?" the doctor frowned, "Why didn't it work?"

"Shouldn't be here," Casey murmured.

"Your friend found you and..."

Severide spoke up for the first time. "I found you, Matt."

Casey didn't even bother to look over to him. "No... no, no... wasn't supposed to..."

"You're going to be moved down to one of the medical wards soon and a psychiatrist is going to speak to you," the doctor explained.

"You're gonna get some help, Matt." Severide nodded.

"No..."

Conscious that the morning visiting hours would soon be over Severide questioned, "Can I stay with him for a bit?" The doctor nodded before moving on to his other patients.

Casey remained deadly still.

"You're looking a little better," Severide smiled. "Physically you're gonna be all right, probably shaved a few years off your liver but you're…"

Casey's face paled, Severide grabbed the empty emesis basin from the side and passed it to him just in time as he gagged and spluttered.

"Spoke to soon," Severide commented, he took the vomit filled basin away. "Water?"

"Why did you find me?" Casey's voice was hoarse and only a little more than a whisper.

"You think no-one's noticed you in the last few weeks? Think no one's seen how awful look? Not noticed how you've been around all of us?"

But Casey turned away. He closed his eyes and waited. Waited for Severide to go.

Severide didn't go, he wasn't about to give up, he persisted, "I've not spoken to Dawson yet, you want to call her? Or I can? Don't think you'll want her turning up at your place..."

"No."

"She's your girlfriend; you've been going out for…"

"No."

"Talk to me Case, tell me what's going on, this isn't like you," Severide urged.

Casey twisted back to face him. "You don't know anything about me," he snarled.

"You're wrong," Severide stated. "You've been depressed for weeks Matt, never seen you so bad… I should have…"

"You should have left me," he replied.

"I'd never leave you," Severide assured him.

Casey scoffed. "You would if you knew."

"Knew what?"

"You can leave. I don't want you here so don't stay because of some sense of obligation," he stated.

"I want to be here," Severide reassured him.

"I don't want you here!"

Severide was taken aback by the sudden anger, the sudden change in demeanour. "Ok, well, I'm not gonna be by tomorrow, on shift, I called Boden, told him you were sick... not too far from the truth right? ... What? You'd rather I tell him the truth? Tell everyone the truth? Tell everyone that you're stuck in hospital on a seventy-two hour hold because you swallowed a load of pills?!"

"I don't care what you do."

* * *

On shift Severide's distraction did not go unnoticed by Chief Boden who stopped by his quarters. "Everything all right?"

"Fine," Severide replied a little too quickly, he'd not long got off the phone with the hospital checking in on Casey. He'd been moved from the ICU to a ward, he knew nothing more.

A look of disbelief washed over Boden's face. "Casey feeling better?"

"What? Oh…" he stammered. "No, I don't think so…"

"Thought you said he was sick?" Boden questioned.

"Erm yeah he is," he nodded, trying quickly to recover.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

"What? No… no… I just had a late night and apparently I've still not had enough caffeine today." That last part was true, he'd been up all night worried about Casey, wondering how he'd missed all the signs, imagining the worst; what if he hadn't turned up at his door?

"Well keep me updated on Casey ok? He's probably annoyed at me for…"

"He's not, he's good, Chief."   
  
Boden left. Severide sighed deeply, shaking his head at his own actions. He'd just told an outright lie to his chief. There would be hell to pay later when Boden found out because he would. That was inevitable.

* * *

Severide walked onto the medical ward the next morning, smiling at the clerk behind the desk. "I'm here for Matthew Casey? It's Kelly Severide," he informed her.

"Ok, just a sec." She looked at the screen in front of her. "He's in 34B," she advised, smiling back. She had a nice smile but Severide wasn't here for that. Not right now. "The doctor is in with him at the moment," she went on to explain, "But you can wait."

"From psych?" he questioned.

The young lady nodded. "They won't be much longer."

"'K I'll wait outside his room then."  
  
Severide wasn't waiting long before the doctor appeared from the private room that Casey had been moved to now he didn't need the intensive monitoring that the ICU provided.

"How is he?" Severide questioned the man immediately, leaving him taken aback at the speed with which he had been approached. "I'm Kelly Severide, I'm..."

"Holding Matthew's power of attorney at the moment." He nodded at Severide, extending a hand. "We have your details on record."

"How is he doc? Gonna assume he didn't tell you why he did it?"

"I haven't asked him, not specifically anyway. To be honest he hasn't really said anything at all so I doubt he'd tell us at this stage," the doctor explained kindly.

"So what happens now? What happens when the seventy-two hours are over?"

The doctor sighed. "Well, if he's medically stable he'll be released."

"Released? Just like that?" Severide felt anger rising inside. "He just tried to kill himself and you're gonna release him? What the hell?"

"At this point I can only suggest counselling and outpatient..."

"For God's sake he tried to kill himself, literally took a load of pills, didn't expect to be waking up, and you're suggesting counselling?! How do you know he won't try again?"

The doctor cleared his throat, embarrassed by the situation but unable to offer Severide much of a solution at the moment. "Well, I think everything suddenly just got too much for him. He's seen a lot in his job that most people would only have nightmares about, he's lost people, he didn't have the easiest childhood, his records show that..."

"So you think he's just cracked then? And that's it?" Severide questioned incredulously.

"We're recommending he sees a…"

"Recommending? Can't you force him to see someone?"

The doctor shook his head. "He's not expressed any interest in seeing anyone nor in doing anything else that suggests he might try to take his own life again. It may have been a cry for help, maybe attention seeking."

Seeking attention? No. Casey would never do that, he'd never done that in his whole life. "That's not Casey," Severide simply stated. There had to be something else going on.


	2. The Biggest Secret

Severide was staring into Casey's room. It may not have been a shared room but in no way could it be considered private. One whole side was glass leaving Casey totally exposed when the blinds were open and almost constantly watched. The doctor had even left the sliding door wide open. Had Casey heard Severide's conversation with the man? And if he had, would he even care what had been said? Severide thought not. Casey didn't seem to care about anything right now, least of all himself.

Casey was seemingly asleep, curled up on his side facing away from the glass, away from the world. The bed covers had slipped down. The thin gown he wore parted slightly and exposed the top of his back, Severide couldn't remember ever seeing the indents of Casey's spine before. How had he spiralled down so quickly? The monitors and IVs had been removed. He noticed now that Casey hadn't just curled in on himself, he was almost hugging himself, attempting to stem the nausea Severide was sure he still felt. The overdose had done a number on his body. The toxicity had overloaded him, dehydrated him, caused headaches and a low fever. The seizures had wrecked his muscles, bruised his skin.

Too wrapped up in his own thoughts Severide hadn't even noticed one of the nurses' approach, she was already right next to him, speaking to him. "You can go in if you want," she smiled kindly

"Oh... no... don't want to disturb him." But in truth he was hesitant to enter the room, hesitant to speak to Casey when he woke because he didn't know what to say, he was still too stunned by the whole situation, he needed time to think. "I'll come back later."

* * *

Casey had said very little to the doctor and feigned sleep as soon as the man had left, with the hope that no-one else would attempt conversation but it wasn't long until his peace was rudely interrupted. A nurse had practically marched him into the small ensuite and essentially ordered him to take off his gown. He preferred the other nurse, the one with the kindly voice. She didn't even seem to bother too much about checking in on him every fifteen minutes.

"You're staying?" he frowned, he could feel his hands trembling as he grasped his gown, he tried to still them. "What am I gonna do? Drown myself under the shower stream?"

"I'll be right outside. You've got five minutes. This door is staying open," she informed him.

But Casey stood his ground, he didn't want this.

"You did this to yourself. You should have thought about it before you took those pills," she stated before muttering away to herself, "Waste of time you people…"

Casey's face fell, he turned his back on her, got behind the shower curtain and removed the thin white hospital gown. He turned the dial and was hit by a shocking stream of cold water. He whacked the temperature up and glanced around for some soap and was unimpressed when he spotted the partially used bar by his feet. He'd never feel clean but it didn't really matter. This was for appearances sake; he supposed he should at least try to be cooperative and grateful. The water warmed up slowly and never reached the scolding hot temperature he'd preferred recently, the temperature that would leave red angry marks on his pale skin. He didn't bother washing, didn't even bother to pick up the sorry excuse for a bar of soap. He simply stood under the stream as it cascaded down his slender frame, easing his aching muscles, and hitting white tiles below his feet, soaking his hair and stinging his face but he didn't even close his eyes.

"Time's up."

* * *

Severide unlocked Casey's front door, took a deep breath and walked through the threshold. He stepped into the lounge, carrying a massive trash bag, picking up several take-out cartons, still nearly full, rotting food inside, almost throwing up when he spotted the maggots on the top of one.

"Jesus Casey… what the hell have you been doing?" he said aloud as he dropped them into the bag.

Almost-empty cans and bottles were everywhere, beer and alcohol spilling out as he lifted them into the trash. Finally they were all disposed of and he set about cleaning the floor, scarcely able to believe what a state the place was in. There was no way Dawson had been to his place for quite some time, they'd been together for less than two months but perhaps they'd already broken things off. After cleaning up the main area of the house Severide braved the bathroom, the place reeked, he had to step out a few times during the cleaning process and once the place was clean and smelt like lemon and disinfectant he stood by the small bathroom cabinet, wanting to look inside, wanting to see if there was anything else Casey had been hiding. Although Severide couldn't say that Casey was hiding the fact that he took anti-depressants he just hadn't told anyone and would he? He was such a private person. Maybe not talking was what had got him into this mess.

It took Severide almost three hours to get the main house and bathroom looking liveable again and to get the floor clean. Once that was done he went into Casey's bedroom. A sorry sight met his eyes. More cans and bottles, more food containers, half eaten sandwiches. He piled it all into the trash bag. This would have to stop. They had to keep a close eye on him from now on. Casey wasn't going to be able sink this low ever again. Not if he had anything to do with it. He pulled the dirty bedding off and let it fall onto the floor. He stared at the mattress which was covered in dark splotches where liquid had been spilled, wine probably. His mind was still racing, he just couldn't work out what the hell was going on with Casey. There were no signs of anything unusual with the house apart from the mess. The truck was parked outside as normal. Everything was normal apart from the mess, apart from Casey's distance, apart from the fact his friend was currently on suicide watch after attempting to take his own life.

* * *

"Hey." Severide alerted Casey to his presence as he entered the room later that day.   
  
He slid the door shut behind him. Casey was sat up on the bed, his blond hair clean now but a ruffled mess. He barely acknowledged Severide, his eyes were almost shut, no wonder the doctor had seemingly given up trying to get through to him earlier on. Severide sat down by his side. Now he could see the faint marks left by the shattered whiskey bottle, he could see the fading bruises that adorned his arms. He just needed to talk to Casey as if everything was normal, that was all he could try and do at this stage.  
  
"You need anything?" he asked. 

No response.

"You wanna watch some TV? They have Discovery and Nat Geo, I think."

Casey remained silent but at least he had acknowledged Severide's presence now with a tiny movement of his head.

He sighed. "Case, talk to me. What's goin' on? Might be able to help, ya know? Can't if you don't speak to me. You know you can tell me anything, I won't judge."

Nothing. It was like speaking to a brick wall.

It was time for a different approach. "Hungry? Is that supposed to be lunch?" Severide nodded towards the untouched tray on the swing table.

"They'll come take it away soon," Casey said quietly, his voice cracked from lack of use, still hoarse from the acidic bile that was making his throat raw.

"Don't you wanna eat it first?" he frowned.

"Can't," Casey replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Still throwing up?" Severide quizzed.

He nodded, eyeing the emesis bowl by his side, ready for use when his stomach rebelled and brought up black bile.

"Should have brought you a toothbrush..." Severide commented, Casey had nothing with him, not even his phone. "I didn't think... I'll go down to the shop and..."

"Don't worry about it." Another shrug of the shoulders.

Severide was still speaking. "... get you some shower..."

"Kel, stop," he said almost pleadingly, "Just stop, ok?"

"I don't know what to do, Matt. This is a new one for me. I don't know what to say or do... I..."

"Me neither... wasn't supposed to go down like this..."

"Because you weren't supposed to survive?" Severide questioned.

"I'm sorry," he replied quietly.

"Sorry that I found you?"

Casey averted his eyes. "Yes."

Severide sighed. "What's goin' on inside that head of yours?"

"Nothing."

"I don't believe that," Severide replied softly, but it was true Casey felt nothing, he'd felt nothing for weeks. He was empty inside.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Casey's eyes remained averted.

"Matt you know you can say anything you want to me. Like I said, I won't judge you," Severide urged, "You can't go on like this. You gotta tell someone what's wrong." Casey looked up after a short while and sure that he was about to speak Severide leant towards him. He'd never forget the next few words whispered to him. "Oh God…" he breathed, "Casey…"

"Sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Severide shook his head, still reeling, hardly able to comprehend what Casey had just told him. "No… no. Not your fault, Matt."

"Don't tell anyone, please don't tell." Casey had turned away, trying to keep his distance from Severide, no longer wanting to be so near to him.

"Ok, I won't…" he sighed heavily. "But we're gonna get you the help you need, ok? You can come stay with me for a bit, your seventy-two hours is almost up."

Casey objected, "I'll just go home."

"Don't want you to be on your own, Matty."

"Ok."

"Good," Severide nodded. "You're going to be ok you know."

Casey just shrugged silently.

"Look, why don't I go and get that doc and…"

"Just want to sleep," Casey replied. "Don't tell them. Don't tell anyone."

"Ok, ok," he conceded. "Well I'll be back in the morning all right?" He stood up and started to leave when Casey said nothing more but a gravelly voice stopped just as he placed a hand on the door.

"Kelly?"

Severide turned.

"I'm sorry. Sorry for all of this."

Severide just stepped out of Casey's room in a state of shock, watching, almost watery eyed, as Casey moved onto his side to face away from the glass. Severide had a million questions whirling around his head, none of which he could ask. How could he just leave Casey alone and go home now?

* * *

Not long after Severide had left an orderly entered Casey's room and swapped the lunch tray for a dinner tray, Casey took very little notice of the man, made no effort to reach for the food. He'd not been hungry for weeks whilst the black hole inside of him had grown so large it had overtaken everything. He stared at the dinner tray.

_Nine days before the overdose._

_Casey heard the key in the front door lock. Dawson came in, still dressed in her gym gear. She pushed the door closed and smiled wanly._

_"Hey baby." Casey grinned widely, so delighted to see her. "Hope you're hungry, dinner's nearly ready." He put the newspaper down on the table in front of him_

_"Matt I can't do this," she stated._

_Casey's brow furrowed. "Can't do what? Gabby..?"_

_"This."_

_"What do you mean 'this'?"_

_"Pretending like everything's normal, that everything's fine," she explained._

_"Everything is fine." He stood up and moved in front of her._

_"Was just coming to pick up some of my things," she stated as Casey began to set the table for two._

_"You're not staying?" He was clearly mystified._

_"Listen Matt, you have some things to figure out, issues to deal with. I don't know if it's 'cause of Hallie or what… I don't know..."_

_"It's not Hallie," he replied._

_"What is it then? Me?" she questioned with an air of incredulity._

_"Please just stay for dinner," he insisted._

_"I can't, I can't pretend everything's fine," she repeated, "Because this isn't fine Matt, it's far from it. And if you're not gonna tell me what's wrong…"_

_"Nothing's wrong!" he screamed, why did she have to judge him, quiz him? Why couldn't she just accept what he said? Why didn't she just appreciate his efforts?_

_"Look at yourself! You're a mess, you look a mess! You're tired all the time, you don't even sleep with me when I stay; you sleep on the couch! How do you think that makes me feel?! You need to work it all out, Matt."_

_"I… I made dinner, Gabby… stay and have some," he tried. This wasn't what he'd had planned for the evening when he went to the effort of making a proper dinner for the two of them._

_"See ya at work tomorrow… Lieutenant." And with that she left with her overnight bag slung over her shoulder._

_Casey stared after her helplessly._

* * *

Casey could only watch as the world passed by his room, his head was a whirl of memories but he felt nothing. He hadn't been lying to Severide, he was genuinely empty, devoid of emotion most of the time but his mood could change in the blink of an eye. One moment he couldn't care less about the nurses' vigilance, the next he found himself throwing his tray of food and drink across the room. One moment he wanted peace and quiet, the next he wanted company and distraction. At times he wanted to scream and shout, at others he wanted to run and hide.

He'd been watching the coming and goings in the corridor outside long enough to know when he could slip out of his room unnoticed to see if there was another bathroom. He slipped into the bathroom at the end of the corridor, closing the door quietly behind himself. Only the small lights over the sinks were lit. No point turning on the overhead lights so the switch went ignored as he walked to the row of sinks. He stared at the grotesque reflection in the mirror, it was laughing at him. Scrunching his eyes shut he raised a fist and smashed it into the mirror, only managing to crack it. He smashed it again, then pounded his arms onto the cracked silver with all his strength, sending shattered glass into the sink and onto the floor around his bare feet. Everything was dizzying. The world began to spin and his knees buckled as he fell to the floor, glass crunched under his weight. He pushed himself into a sitting position and picked up one of the larger shards in his left hand. He tightened his hand around the piece. Blood oozed through his fingers but he felt nothing.

He took the bloody shard and brought it down the length of his right arm but he never finished. He heard voices, shouting from the outside world. The door was swung open. Human silhouettes crept in around the cascading light.

"Matthew… I need you to put that down," the voice was stern but calm.

He took no notice. The looming shadow around him didn't matter. He pressed the shard down into his flesh. It parted so easily. Blood was dripping onto the floor around him, turning his white gown deep red. There was a flurry of movement. Suddenly his was being manhandled to his feet. There was a struggle, a sharp prick at the back of his neck and his movements slowed and the world greyed into black.

* * *

Severide had been up all night. He'd of course been questioned by Shay as soon as he'd returned to their apartment, he shut his bedroom door on her. What could he say? What could he tell her apart from outright lies? He hadn't even tried to sleep after that confrontation. There was too much running rampage in his head and he didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to solve this. He always knew what to do but now he felt as lost as Casey had looked when he'd whispered to him. He couldn't do anything to make this better. And it wasn't just gonna go away. He should have broken Casey's confidence and told the doctors. He should have told someone. Even one of the nurses. Casey wasn't in his right mind, and Severide knew there was nothing he could do to help except repeat what Casey had said to someone who knew how to deal with the information.

The haunted look on Casey's face as he had whispered the words would never leave him. Severide had spent the rest of that night scrolling through internet sites on his laptop, reading articles and trying to find anything that could be useful, that could help Casey. In the end he figured he was going to have to let Casey dictate how things proceeded. He couldn't afford to and didn't want to lose his trust.

With a bag of toiletries and clothes Severide returned to the hospital after his night of little sleep. He smiled at the desk clerk when he arrived at the ward just as he had done the day before but this time she didn't return the greeting. "Is everything all right?" he asked, frowning deeply.

"The doctor wants to speak with you," she replied, "If you just wait here I'll…"

"I'll wait in Casey's room," he said pointedly.

Severide could see doubt creeping across the young woman's face. "You'll have to stay here," she insisted. Seeing that Severide was about to turn on his heel and head for Casey's room she repeated, "You can't go in to see him. You have to see the doctor."

Something about the urgent tone in her voice made him stop, a questioning look crossed his face.

"They've had to put him in restraints," she began.

"What the hell... Why?"

"He hurt himself last night," she explained gently. "Tried to cut his wrists," she stated.

"He's in restraints?" Severide questioned, his head started to race.

Severide's head started to race as she continued to explain. "He's had a sedative but he should be awake soon."

"You have to take the restraints off before he does," Severide almost snapped.

"That's not my say, it's up to the doctor. He'll be along to see you in a while," she explained apologetically. The desk phone rang. "Just a sec," she said, turning to answer it.

Severide seized the opportunity and headed straight for Casey's room. From a few yards away, he could see Casey lying still, flat on his back, eyes closed, his face tilted away. His right arm was heavily bandaged and secured firmly in place by a solid leather restraining band attached to the bedframe.

Severide's heart sank as he entered the room. Casey's left hand was also bandaged and his wrist strapped down. There were no bedsheets and Casey's gown was drenched with sweat, sticking to his torso and limbs. The gown rumpled up under a wide leather strap that went over his waist. Severide saw tiny cuts on his legs and feet where dried blood had scabbed over. He never thought he'd see anyone in a position like this, let alone Casey. Casey was the strongest man he knew. How would he get through this?

He was glad Casey was still unconscious. Severide hoped he remained that way until the restraints were gone. It would set him back a million miles if he came to in this state so without hesitation he started to try and unbuckle the thick leather over Casey's right wrist. The leather was stiff and tight.

Casey's eyes opened at Severide's touch. "Wha..?" he managed to groan, his mouth was dry, his drugged brain unable to quite grasp what was going on.

Casey soon began to twist and turn, contorting his body to try and get out of the restraints, to escape the discomfort and indignity. He tugged and pulled his wrists and feet, his movements grew more and more rapid, his breaths increased and his chest started to heave as panic took over.

"Case stop! It's ok. They had to do this. You hurt yourself. I'm gonna get them off..." Severide was struggling to undo the restraints when the doctor walked in to see Casey writhing on the bed.

"You can't do that," the doctor began, putting a pile of files on the side.

"Take off the restraints or I will," Severide said, his voice unintentionally loud. Other staff members were now gathering at the other side of the glass, watching the commotion. "He'll calm down if you take them off."

"I'm sorry we can't do that. You can't. He tried to kill himself again," the doctor replied.

Casey was going to end up hurting himself at the rate he was going. He was thrashing about on the bed.

"Take them off!" Severide repeated even louder this time.

"If you don't back off and let us do our job, I'll have to call security," the doctor stated as he moved towards Casey with a syringe.

"Take off the restraints!" he repeated undaunted by the threat. "He was raped!"


	3. Difficult Questions

"He was raped!" The words had fallen from Severide's mouth before he could stop them. He stepped back. He only hoped that Casey had worked himself up into such a state he didn't hear him.

Everything paused except for Casey who was still twisting and pulling against the restraints, pulling against the memory of his attackers. The doctor stepped forward and emptied the syringe into Casey's thigh muscle. His body fell limply into the bed and he stilled, soaked in sweat, his face pale, eyes closed, a brief respite from the chaos that was gradually consuming him.

"Now will you get those damn things off him?" Severide was getting angry with the doctor now and the calmer the man was the more annoyed Severide became. Shouldn't the world have come crashing down at the announcement?

The doctor just nodded towards the nurse who moved to unfasten the leather straps on Casey's body.

"We really should talk in private," the doctor suggested.

Severide shook his head. "No. I don't know anything. He only told me last night… I… I promised I wouldn't tell anyone."

"He probably didn't hear." Casey was probably too out of it, he implied.

"Huh… probably didn't hear…" Severide scoffed. All he could think of was how he'd broken Casey's trust. Casey had not told anyone about this for… who knew how long… and Severide had just blown it out to a room full of strangers. In a strange way it was a relief, at least now they could start to help Casey move forward. Just maybe.

* * *

Casey was no longer allowed to be left alone. Even as Severide sat with him in the room there was an orderly there; he was now under strict suicide watch. When he awoke for the first time since his panic attack it was already mid-afternoon. The world was a haze when he first opened his eyes. His body felt heavy and laden down. He soon realised that Severide was sat beside him, he was talking but Casey wasn't listening.

_Fourteen days before the overdose._

_Severide spotted Casey walking across the apparatus floor just before roll call. He walked across quickly to his truck counterpart, stepping into time with him, noticing his odd gait. Casey appeared not to notice him._  
  
He slapped him on the shoulder playfully. "Morning Case, you recovered from the other night yet?" he asked. "Think I need a detox," he joked. "Great birthday though, even if I don't remember some of it…"

_Casey had winced at the touch, almost shied away from it._

_"Ok?" he questioned. "You look a bit…"_

_"Fine," Casey retorted, his usual response._

_"What's that on your face than?" Severide's brows knitted together at the sight of the bruise._

_"Fell off a ladder yesterday… no big deal." He played it down. Typical of him._

_Severide laughed raucously. "No wonder you don't want to tell anyone…" Seeing Casey's face blanch his laughter died down. "You all right?"_

_"Just a little bruised," Casey assured him._

_"Ok, well, have I got some stories for you…" he grinned. "After you left…" Severide continued relating some of the more humorous events from his birthday night out where they'd all gone out for a guys get-together at the exclusive Lakeside Club that had opened recently. Severide had wanted to go since he'd heard good things about the place. Expensive cars had lined the parking lot, attractive cocktail waitresses had flittered about, the clearly rich clientele with Rolex watches, Gucci and Armani clothing everywhere, there was a gaming room in the back and a dimly lit couples area._

_But Casey wasn't listening to him at all. He couldn't concentrate on Severide's words as they walked to the locker room. He needed to get his head into work mode and needed to get a strong cup of black coffee down him, maybe that would help. On the other hand it probably wouldn't. His mind was even more of a mess than his body._

"You didn't fall off that ladder at all did you?" Severide questioned as he pondered over the last few weeks.  
  
Casey said nothing, he remained lying still on the bed, head tilted away from Severide.  
  
"They need to examine you, I've given them consent. They might do some x-rays at some point too…" he informed him, they needed consent for the examination in case any legal proceedings were to take place. "It would help if you told them when it happened…" he tried.

But Casey just turned further away.

* * *

Severide wished he hadn't been given medical power over Casey, wished he wasn't responsible; he wasn't a responsible person, why had he agreed to act for Casey if he was deemed incapacitated? He had fully expected Casey to put up some resistance to the physical examination but later that afternoon when the doctor and nurse arrived he made no objections, he remained silent and compliant. The low dosage sedative he had been given had done its job to curb any anxiety.

The blinds had been shut. Severide had left the room and paced the corridor outside as they examined him. It was too late to collect any forensic evidence but they needed to check for physical damage and document the injuries in case the police became involved.

"Hi Matthew, or do you prefer Matt or something else?" the doctor smiled as she neared him, she continued when he remained silent. "My name's Claire, I'm a general physician, and this is Nurse Willows, she's gonna take some notes for me whilst I conduct the exam, is that ok? If you'd prefer a male doctor then I can…"

"It's Matt," he supplied, his voice barely above that of a whisper, being called by his full name reminded him of his parents. He didn't want to be reminded of them now, didn't want to have to think about them at all.

"Ok," she smiled warmly. "Shall we start? Just let me know if you're uncomfortable at any stage."

Casey wondered what the point was to all of this, it wasn't as if he had just been assaulted, why did they still want to examine him? But he said nothing, felt nothing.

"I'm going to unfasten your gown, Matt," she explained.

When he didn't protest she proceeded with the examination, they noted down any signs of injuries, and when she was done she helped him to refasten the gown.

"I'm going to ask you some difficult questions now," she said gently. "Was there anal penetration?"

Casey looked away, clenching his hands to stop them from shaking. He nodded.

"Was there oral sexual contact?"

He bit his lip and nodded again.

"Ok, can you tell me in your own words what happened?"

But Casey just shook his head.

"When did it happen Matt? Do you remember the date?"

He kept silent.

"About a week ago..? Two weeks..? Three weeks..?"

Casey nodded.

"Ok, thank you, Matt." But she needed to get more details and if Casey was unwillingly to divulge what exactly had happened she was going to have to ask some more difficult questions, she was sitting down in front of him now, level with him when she spoke again. "Was the anal penetration done with the attackers penis or fingers? Were there any objects involved?"

Casey was trembling.

"I'm sorry Matt, I realise these are incredibly hard questions. I'm asking them so that I can help you." She spoke gently and repeated the previous question.

He took a deep steadying breath. "No objects."

"Ok." She nodded, the nurse by the corner was taking the notes the entire time. "Was the oral penetration with the attacker's penis or something else?"

Casey just nodded.

"The penis?" she tried to clarify.

Again he only nodded

"Thank you, Matt," she told him. "Was there any oral contact with the attackers mouth?" When Casey frowned she rephrased the question. "Was there any sort of kissing or biting?"

"Yes," he stated as he unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Did the attacker ejaculate?"

The look in his eyes told her his answer.

"Were condoms used?"

"Don't know." He shook his head.

"That's ok. Was lubricant used?"

"I don't know…"

"It's ok that you don't know Matt," she reassured him. "Afterwards was there any genital bleeding, discharge, itching, sores or pain?"

He nodded.

"Was there any anal pain or bleeding, and abdominal pain?"

Another nod.

"Were there any drugs, alcohol involved?"

Casey looked up and nodded.

"Can you give me any details?"

He contemplated remaining silent but began to speak. "Felt sick, tired, just wrong… so I left the others and…" his voice trailed off.

"You think you were drugged?"

He nodded. "No more questions… please." Because he wasn't going to reply, he wasn't going to say anything or tell her anything further.

"Ok. We'll move on. You can lie down now," she stated, she had managed to get more information than she thought she'd have been able to. "Can you bring your legs up for me. Good Matt. Just let me know if you need a breather, ok? I'm going to have a careful look. I'm going to touch you here in order to look a bit more carefully. Please tell me if anything feels tender."

She continued on to give a thorough examination of the genito-anal area. There was still some evidence of genital and extragenital injury, the doctor could only imagine how bad his initial injuries had been, how had he managed to survive such a brutal assault and hide it? Because from what she'd been told he had tried to carry on with life as normal.

Casey remained quiet throughout the physical examination, he bit his lips and held back a few winces but just kept his eyes focus on the ceiling tiles, counting them, staring at them until they fuzzed out of focus.

"… Please don't…" he muttered when doctor went to touch his jaw, he'd not responded when she'd asked if she could have a look inside his mouth because she hadn't wanted to do anything he didn't want, he needed to be in control.

"I'm sorry Matt. Can you open your mouth for me?" she repeated her question. "You said the attacker assaulted you ora…"

"Yeah they…"

"They?" she frowned at this new piece of information, "Do you remember how many people attacked you Matt?"

He closed his eyes and a tiny movement of his head told her he didn't know how many people had assaulted him.

"It's ok, don't worry," she reassured him. "Now, I just want to take a look at the back your throat, all right?"

Casey remained silent, his eyes still closed. But very slowly he opened his mouth.

"Note down the swelling at the back of his mouth," she spoke to the nurse who was assisting the examination, "Although some of this damage is more recent there is evidence of trauma to the back of the throat."

Casey lay deadly still throughout the examination of his mouth and throat. Trying to keep the images in his head at bay.

"We've finished the physical, Matt," she informed him. "I'm going to take some blood now. We'll check it for STIs. Then I'm gonna give you a tetanus shot. In six weeks you'll need another blood test to check for HIV, we'll do another at three months and six months just to be sure. Right now you've got the option of taking post-exposure prophylaxis for twenty-eight days, although the three day window has passed I'd recommend taking them just in case, they're not shown to be as effective after the three…"

"In case what?"

"In case one of the assailants was HIV positive," she explained gently.

"Oh... ok," he replied emotionlessly.

"This is a lot to take in but you're not to blame for what happened, if you have any more que…"

"I don't."

* * *

Severide had said his goodbyes, told Casey that he'd not be by the next day since he was on shift, asked if he needed anything, and received nothing in response.

Casey also said nothing to the crisis counsellor who'd come along full of jolly intentions the morning after his physical examination, she'd spoken about all sorts of therapy techniques and explained all the help available to him. He didn't give a damn about it.

His bathroom trips were supervised. Everything was supervised. He was refusing to eat and he no longer had the excuse of feeling nauseous because of the overdose. Sometimes an orderly would try to make conversation, other orderlies would simply sit by him. He preferred the ones that pretended he didn't exist, the ones that thought it was a waste of time to sit and watch a man who wanted to kill himself because there was no way Casey would tell everyone who saw him what had happened to him, why he now felt nothing, why he was empty and couldn't feel a thing for anyone, never mind himself.

There was a TV in his room but he'd not switched it on since he'd been there. A lady had come round offering books, he'd not taken one. He spent most of his time staring at the wall with nothing particular going through his head. But the physical examination had brought an onslaught of memories back to Casey and he could feel himself slipping into them late at night.

_Sixteen Days before the overdose._

_He woke up groggily. Where the hell was he? He tried to move but was hit by a wave of pain. The ground around him was wet. His clothes were soaked. No. His clothes were torn and soaking wet. His pants were missing, as were his shoes. His boxers were gone. His head was pounding, nauseatingly so. What the hell had happened to him? He couldn't get his bearings or work out where he was. God. The pain was so bad. He could feel himself trembling with cold and shock._

_Some more time went by but he didn't know how long he'd been lying there. Eventually he tried to move an arm. He could feel something next to him. His jacket? No. His pants maybe? He couldn't lift his head yet so he stayed on the ground, rain pelting down on him. Colder and colder. The world faded away._

_Casey had no idea how much later he had regained consciousness, it must have been the early hours of the morning. He could only see by the moonlight. He'd come around trembling and frozen. Eventually he struggled to his feet. He fumbled and picked up his pants. He was leaning heavily against a wall that grated against his elbow where his shirt had ripped apart. Slowly he managed to pull his pants on. God. So much pain. Everywhere. His mouth felt vile. It tasted vile. Had he thrown up? Was it something he'd eaten at the club that had made him feel so ill and end up like this?_

_He sank down the wall and sat for what seemed like an eternity, head bowed, resting on his knees, arms limp by his sides, trying to breathe deeply to steady the agony he felt. He couldn't think, his thoughts felt like they were wading through thick fog. Why the hell was he out here without his pants? He couldn't quite focus enough to work it out, why couldn't he think? Why couldn't he remember? He had no memory of what had happened since he had left the club. He'd felt so ill he'd just wanted to get home. He still felt ill and wanted to get home. Maybe Severide had played some sort of joke on him? Surely even he wouldn't stoop that low? And why did everything hurt so much? He pulled himself back up into a standing position. Needed to find a cab. Just get home. Get some sleep._

_Casey stumbled barefoot along the dark alleyway, touching the wall to try and steady himself, falling to his knees with a grunt at one point. Finally he reached the street and managed to hail a passing cab. The driver looked worried at his appearance. Casey told him the address and by some miracle he stayed conscious for the whole journey. He fumbled in his pocket, finding some notes and practically threw them through the window at the driver. The man looked astonished and thanked him for his generosity. Casey lurched for his door, groped around for his keys and managed to get inside, leaning on the door to close it behind him._

_He collapsed on to his bed, he'd not bothered to change, he just curled up in his torn clothes and let unconsciousness swallow him whole._

When Casey woke he had the urge to shower. He pushed back the bed cover and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" the orderly questioned from his seat at the end of his hospital bed. _  
_ __  
"Shower," Casey replied simply.

"Sorry not at this time of night," the man replied.

Under any normal circumstance Casey would have protested but he had no fight in him, he had nothing in him, nothing left, so he pulled the covers up and waited for sleep to claim him.

* * *

Severide came by the hospital after his shift had finished. He'd come to a realisation over the last twenty-four hours.   
  
"You only told me what happened because… because you weren't planning on making it through the night... were you?"  
  
No matter how much Casey insisted that he did not care it was ingrained into him, he hadn't wanted Severide to blame himself for his death, he'd wanted to give him a reason, a real reason for his actions so his best friend wouldn't spend the rest of his life blaming himself for not knowing, for being unable to stop him.

Casey remained unresponsive aside from the slow movements of his eyelids.

"I don't care what happened to you Casey… I mean… I do care, I care that it happened to you and that you were hurt, are hurt, I just mean that I don't see you any differently."

No reaction.

"So the guys all just think you're sick… Cindy and Herrmann have offered a full refrigerator of food, I said you were fully stocked up, no need to go round… Boden knows you're here… he doesn't know what's happened but I couldn't lie to him, Case, he's worried, so am I…"

Nothing.

"Matt, once you're stable, medically, they're gonna take you up to psych, there'll be a committal hearing to decide… to decide how long you need to be there or… or maybe transfer you to a… a specialist hospital."

Severide was still only met with silence.

"I'm sorry, Casey, you trusted me and I… Matt, you understand that I had to? You're not an idiot," he sighed, he was getting nowhere. He reached into his bag. "I've got your phone if you wanna call anyone? Speak to Gabby maybe? She doesn't know your here, just like the others don't."

"Doesn't matter," he muttered.

"Maybe speaking to her would…"

"She left me a week ago… dunno how long I've been here…"

"Six days," Severide supplied, happy not to be having a one sided conversation for once.

"I… I couldn't… couldn't do it…"

"Oh…" Severide mouthed in realisation. "Sure if you tell her why then…"  
 _  
_ _Thirteen days before the overdose._

_Casey was lying on his bed, fully dressed when Dawson sauntered into the bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of panties. "Thought you deserved a treat for helping me sort that furniture out yesterday," she strolled seductively towards him._

_He tensed up as she sat over his legs, there were flashes of memories, unwanted thoughts as she moved to unbuckle his jeans. He shuffled back away from her. He didn't want her to touch him. Didn't want her to find out what had happened to him. Didn't want her to see the state of his hips, his legs. His breathing hitched._

_She frowned at him. "Baby... what's wrong?"_

_"Just tired, that's all."_

_She smiled at him provocatively, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue. "Let me help you relax then? You can just lie here and enjoy. You won't need to do anything..."_

_"Gabby…" he protested, "Said I'm tired."_

_He escaped into the bathroom. His whole body was shaking. Why couldn't he have just gone through with it? Why couldn't he just focus on her and not keep picturing the men who did this to him? He was a mess. Used. Broken._

"She can't know Sev. No one can," Casey stated.


	4. Forced Committal

"Do you hear voices, Matt?"

Casey remained unresponsive. He hadn't replied to a single question all morning. Another day another doctor. He couldn't care less. This doctor had come down from the psychiatric ward to do another assessment, Severide had requested it, he'd also asked to sit in and was allowed when Casey made no objections, but he made no objections at all these days.

"Did they tell you to hurt yourself? To kill yourself?"

Severide was sat in the corner of the room watching the exchange. Casey looked disinterested, he wasn't expecting the doctor to get a single answer, but Casey's expression changed into something that almost looked like disbelief.

"No one told me to kill myself. The only voice I hear is my own," Casey almost snarled. Couldn't this man just leave him alone? He was used goods, dirty, unrepairable, why were they even bothering with him?

"What do you feel, Matt?"

Casey looked away, he'd been inundated with this question, inundated with various doctors. He'd had enough. Severide was looking at him expectantly, hoping someone would start getting through to Casey.

"Do you get angry?"

_Nine days before the overdose._

_Dawson had closed the front door behind herself. Casey stood helplessly rooted to the spot as she watched her go, his face was a mixture of anguish and pain. He wanted to tell her, to give her the real reason why but he couldn't. He couldn't tell anyone. No one could ever know what had been done to him. He'd made an effort, done his best. Tried to be normal, tried to act as if he was fine. But he was far from it, he could lie to the others but not to himself. He was definitely not fine._

_He moved into the kitchen and picked up the hot dish from the oven. He threw it across the room. The ceramic smashed against the wall. Food went everywhere. He swept the glasses, cutlery and placemats off the dining table with one arm. He lifted up the open wine bottle and swung it towards the fireplace. Wasted. Just like he was now. With an angry grunt his fist slammed into the wall, his hand went right through the plasterboard._

"I want to help you, Matt, everyone does, but I really need you to talk to me. Something horrible happened to you but that doesn't mean your life's over. Whatever you are feeling is completely normal," the psychiatrist reassured him.

Casey shook his head. "I don't feel anything." He had felt shame, guilt. He had felt sadness, even loss. But as the days had passed by he became numb. Detached.

"You want to hurt yourself so you can feel something?"

"I don't want to hurt myself," Casey stated, a small crease formed across his brows.

"But you have hurt yourself, Matt," the man replied.

"I don't want to hurt myself. I want to die."

Severide didn't how much more of this he could watch. This wasn't Casey.

"Ending everything isn't the only way to get in control of what happened to you," the psychiatrist explained, "Talking through your thoughts and feelings, making sense of what happened to you will…"

"There's nothing to make sense of. I know what happened. I don't need to talk about it."

* * *

Later that day Casey was sitting on his bed, alone save for the orderly, he was medically stable and would soon be transferred up to the psychiatric ward. He was a threat to himself. They couldn't release him. He would spend a minimum of fourteen days on the ward whilst it was decided what was best for him. When Casey had been told he'd just turned his back on the doctor and Severide.

"I have some good news for you, Matt, all your blood tests came back negative," the doctor who'd performed his physical examination announced. "Did you hear me Matt?" she questioned when he remained silent and unresponsive.

He looked over to her, expressionless.

"It's good news," she smiled. "Have you noticed any side effects from the PEP's?" He'd started the twenty-eight day course two days ago.

Nothing.

"None of us are judging you, Matt, we want to help you get through this," she reassured him. "Have you thought about going to the police?"

"No police," he stated.

"Ok, ok, no police," she conceded. "I'm going to give you my details, I know you're being transferred out of here later, but if you have any questions about anything or want to go the police you're welcome to call me."

* * *

There was a long list and items and clothing that Casey could have and not have when he was admitted to the psychiatrist ward. Forced committal to prevent the deterioration of his health. Severide had told the doctor to do what he thought was best, Severide hadn't known what to do.

"This is full of clothes, I shoved a few books in there too," Severide explained as he placed the bag next to Casey.

Casey was sitting on the bed, still wearing a thin white hospital gown. The list of items not allowed had been extensive. Severide had even gone out a bought Casey a few joggers so that he'd be more comfortable. Casey wasn't allowed to have anything with drawstrings so he'd pulled them out. Quite obviously he wasn't allowed any razor blades, any mirrors or anything else that he could use to hurt himself with; no shoelaces, no belts. He wasn't even allowed to take his own toiletries, they would be provided by the staff. No phone, no electronic devices. Severide had packed some thick socks since he'd not found any slippers at Casey's place and wasn't sure he'd want any.

"You went to my house?" Casey questioned, suddenly horrified at the thought of what his friend would have discovered.

"I found you, remember? I saw the state of your place. It's fine now though, all clean and it doesn't smell too bad either."

"Oh… I'm sorry… sorry you saw…"

"Casey it's fine. All of this is fine," Severide replied reassuringly, although it wasn't fine at all. He didn't know what he was doing, he felt like he would say the wrong thing to Casey at any moment.

"I…"

"What is it?" Severide encouraged, this was one of the longest and most revealing conversation he'd had with Casey since he'd revealed the rape.

"I don't want to go up there," he shook his head. The lost expression across his face was heart breaking.

"You have to," Severide stated. "And it'll help, ok, you just have to let them."

"Why?"

"Because I know you can get through this," he spoke.

"I don't want to." Casey looked away.

"I know, I know, and I wish there was something I could do or say to make it all better, I wish there was some magic cure, I wish… I wish it had never happened to you, I wish you'd never been hurt, I wish that… I wish that I'd figured it out, wish I'd known because just maybe it wouldn't have got so bad but I know you, you say that I don't but I do, I know you wouldn't have told me and I don't mind. I'm going to be here for you whether you want me or not."

"You don't think I'm… think I'm…"

"Think you're what?" Severide frowned.

"They said I was a… they said… Do you think it was my fault? Did I make them do it? Did I do something that…"

"Stop Matty." Severide shook his head. "It wasn't your fault." He wanted to reach out and hug him, hold him and never let go because he'd never seen Casey so vulnerable. So broken.

There was a knock at the door, his escort was here. "Ready to go up, Matt?"

He looked at Severide with uncertainty. Severide smiled. "I'll come with you."

They entered the ward through several locked doors, Casey felt like he was being taken to prison, locked up never to be released, served him right for letting those men do what they did to him. They were greeted by a large bubbly woman and they were shown to Casey's room. It wasn't dissimilar to the hospital room except there was no glass wall or sliding door. The door was large and grey, there was a lock and a small rectangular window made from safety glass. Casey's belongings were searched, they even flipped though the National Geographic magazine and the two books in his bag.

Severide watched as Casey gingerly sat down on the bed. A man came an introduced himself, Casey didn't take much notice of him. Severide said his goodbyes and as he left the room a nurse spoke to him. "Best not to visit for the first few days," she said.

"Oh…"

"He needs to settle in, we'll keep in touch," she explained.

"Right… ok." He looked back to Casey's room, he wished now that he'd not told Casey he'd be by as soon as he could be.

* * *

Casey was left alone in his room. 'Settling in' they called it. It had been the first time in four days that no one had been with him. He figured he should be relieved to be on his own. He didn't feel anything really. The few belongings he was allowed to have had been left at the end of the bed and the bag had been taken away. The room was bare apart from a couple of shelves and a small bedside table. His bed was very ordinary, nothing like the uncomfortable hospital bed he'd spent the last week sleeping on. There were two blankets and two pillows. There was no ensuite bathroom instead there was a shared toilet block and shower room at the other end of the ward.

He got to his feet and changed out of the hospital gown and into a pair of plain black joggers and a navy t-shirt. He felt less exposed. Less vulnerable. He soon began to move his things from the bed to the shelves. He was stood in front of them when there was a knock on the door, he said nothing and a man walked in dressed in white scrubs, a nurse.

"Hi Matt," he smiled warmly. "I'm D'ante, you'll be seeing me a lot whilst you're here. Have you seen your schedule?" He indicated to the white board.

Casey just shook his head, staring at the nurse.

"I'll be the one giving you your meds on most days, I don't work Sundays or nights," he explained kindly. "What book have you got there?"

Casey looked down at the book in his hands that D'ante was eyeing but said nothing.

"You like fishing?"

Casey nodded. "I guess."

"I've never been."

"Do you know? Does everyone know?"

D'ante smiled. He understood what Casey was asking about and replied immediately. "Just the staff working on your case." When Casey looked away and down to the floor he added, "There's no shame in being here."

Casey was still looking away.

"It's TV time right now if you want to come and join the others?"

He shook his head and took a step back. The thought of meeting any other patients on the ward made him feel sick, and since it was his first night there as a courtesy his dinner was brought to his room, he neglected to touch it.

Casey was forcefully awoken the next morning by a female nurse and made to get up from his comfortable position on his new bed. She instructed him to follow her to the common room for breakfast. The whole situation had him a daze. He noticed a man standing in the corner of the room mumbling to himself. Casey sat down where the nurse had indicated, hiding his still heavily bandaged arm under the table. He picked up the glass of juice that was sat in front of him. Tasteless. The whole place felt noisy and chaotic and so far from home. He couldn't cope with it and went back to his room, closing the door.

D'ante was soon by his side and handing him a small pot of medication and giving him a warning. "Matt, if you don't eat more these pills will cause nausea."

Casey shrugged resignedly. It didn't matter because he always felt nauseous.

* * *

Casey had been on the psychiatric ward for three days. He was still speaking very little and preferred to spend his time alone in his room. He had refused to go to any group sessions and was still refusing to eat. He would just sit moving the food around his plate. They finally threatened him with an NG tube. So he ate and wandered off to the bathroom and forced himself to throw up the contents of his stomach, it hadn't been difficult because he had eaten so much more than he was used to. They had caught him of course and once again his bathroom trips would be supervised. They weren't going to allow his self-destructive behaviour.

"Hey Matt, do you mind if I come in?" A young man, only around Casey's age had appeared at the doorway to his room. "I'm Lyle Adams, we met the other day when you arrived, I'm a psychiatrist."

When Casey didn't protest Adams entered, he left the door open so Casey did not feel trapped inside with him.

"Your committal hearing is tomorrow, do you understand what that is?"

Casey was silent.

"It's pretty scary in here isn't it? Being so out of control, let me help you get some control back," Adams spoke gently, unthreateningly. He opened up Casey's file. "You've seen a lot of doctors recently, too many," he commented as he looked through the file. "You can look at this if you want, I know you like control. And you've had no control since you were attacked."

"No," Casey replied quietly.

"No?"

"I was fine. And then I wasn't."

"And then you wanted to die?" Adams questioned, his voice filled with compassion for the firefighter.

"Didn't want anything. Didn't want to be here. Didn't feel anything, I don't feel anything… I should care…"

"What about, Matt? What should you care about?"

"That I'm locked up in here. That they'll probably never let me work again, not in the field. That whoever did this to me is still out there… that they could do it to someone else. But I don't care. I don't care about anybody else. I don't care about anything. I'm not even telling anyone that I'm fine. I'm not. There's no point. There's nothing there. I think I was ok until I remembered… I didn't remember straight away. I didn't understand, stupid right?"

_Fifteen days before the overdose._

_Casey came to slowly. He fought to open his eyes. His head was still aching. His body hurt all over. His throat hurt. He felt the urge to throw up. Slowly fogged recollections came back to him; Severide's birthday, the club and… how the hell had he got back home? What the hell had happened? He felt awful. He couldn't remember ever feeling this ill before. He must have eaten something dodgy the previous night. Must be really hungover. He was never this bad though. He could feel the heavy fabric of his pants rubbing against his skin. Must have been bad not to have got undressed._

_Suddenly his stomach lurched and he threw off the bed covers, trying to make it to the bathroom before he threw up. But he didn't make it. He heaved miserably onto the floor, wondering if he would ever feel better again. He dragged himself to the toilet. Nothing else but bile came up. His throat was raw. How come it was so bad? Had he thrown up before? He didn't move, couldn't move as he waited for the wave of nausea to pass. He wiped the back of his hand across his face, wondering vaguely if he had anything in the medicine cabinet that would help with this hangover from hell. But that thought vanished when he saw the dry blood on his hand. What the hell?_

_He looked down at his arms. His shirt sleeves were torn and there were bloody scratches on his flesh. Blood stains on the front of his shirt. Blood on his pants. No shoes. Only one sock, and his feet were covered in grime and dirt. He couldn't think straight for the pain in his back, his lower back, in fact everything hurt. Had he fallen? He could feel his heart pounding but his mind was a fog and nothing registered._

_He groped at the toilet sit and stood up. He couldn't think. He just wanted to sleep. He deemed his stomach safe enough to go back to bed. He just collapsed back onto the bed. He could still smell that vaguely familiar coppery smell as he drifted into unconsciousness._

_It was only after his second trip to the bathroom that he saw the cause of the smell. His sheets and mattress were soaked in blood. He wiped his face with his hands. What the hell was happening to him? What had happened to him? His thoughts were all over the place, he couldn't pinpoint a single logical reason for this. Where had all the blood come from?_

_Oh God._

_His pants._

_Blood._

_He pulled down his waistband._

_No boxers._

_He was a mess._

_Oh God. No. Not that. He couldn't breathe._

_No._

_There had to be another reason. A simple explanation._

_Oh God._

_He felt so dirty._

_He tore off his remaining clothes and stepped into the shower. Whacking the temperature up until the water almost scalded his skin, scrubbing at his flesh until it was red raw._

"Listen Matt, I won't try and make you talk about anything don't want, we're going to do this in your own time, you know," Adams explained to Casey.

"Have you helped a lot of people who..." He couldn't go on and his raspy voice trailed off.

"A lot of people… who?" Adams encouraged, Casey needed to say it.

"Who..." Casey frowned, averting his gaze from Adams.

"Who've been raped?" Adams questioned as if he were just asking Casey if he wanted a coffee.

Casey pulled in a breath. "Don't say that."

"You were raped, Matt, you were attacked and raped." He had to make Casey acknowledge it. That was the first step. To overcome the denial in his head.

"I know." Casey twisted his face into a grimace. "But it sounds so... so..."

"So what, Matt?"

"Men don't get raped."

"They do, Matt. Anyone can get raped. And it's not their fault. Not your fault. You're not to blame for what happened to you. You have to understand that. You didn't do anything wrong. Same as people aren't to blame for getting leukaemia or MS. It won't seem like it right now but you will get better. You will be able to work again. You will have a life."

Casey shrugged. "I don't want one."

"You don't want one right now but you will want your life again. What did you want in the future?"

Casey shrugged again.

"Did you want a promotion at work? Did you want to get married? Kids? Did you want to travel or…"

Casey frowned. "No one would want me now."

"You think nobody would want a relationship with you?"

"Doesn't matter though."

"Matt, you are still you. Ok, you've been physically and mentally injured but that will pass Matt, you will get through it, believe me. And you've got so much support if you want it."

"Can't tell anyone… only told Sev cause… I can't go back."

"Why did you tell him?"

"Shouldn't have." He shook his head.

"You were really brave to tell him, really strong," Adams replied, "You kept it hidden from everyone but you decided to tell him."

"He was right, I only told him to give him a reason," he stated.

"A reason?"

"For ending it," Casey replied simply.

"But you were interrupted, maybe you wanted to be interrupted, deep down you wanted help," Adams spoke softly.

"There's nothing deep down. I didn't do it for anything other than what it was and I'd do it again," he said darkly.

"You want to try and kill yourself again?"

"That's what put me here in the first place, isn't it?" Casey's mood had changed. He'd gone from trustful to defensive. Adams knew he'd not get through to him now. He was like a pendulum swinging back and forth, cycling between one emotional extreme and another. From despair, to anger, to emptiness. Sometimes he went entire minutes without blinking, just staring off into space without a thought.


	5. Out of Control

Severide was constantly being approached by Casey's crew, with no real answer they were all worried about their lieutenant, they only knew that he was sick, Severide hadn't even told them he was in the hospital. He'd explained that he was ill and couldn't have any visitors right now. He wished he could give them something more concrete but he wasn't going to break Casey's trust, he just hoped no one started snooping around, at least Casey's place was tidy now.

Severide had been informed by Connie that the chief wanted a word with him. He hovered outside Boden's office door before knocking when the chief was done on the phone. Boden raised a hand to indicate that Severide should come in. "Take a seat," he said, nodding Severide to sit. Boden leaned back in his chair. "Casey?"

"Yeah… Chief… I erm…"

"How is he Kelly? Really? Any better?"

"No, not exactly… I don't quite…"

"He's still in hospital? He's not called here…" Boden's voice was serious and questioning. The man was clearly concerned and Severide knew he'd have to come up with something and fast.

"Don't think he will, Chief."

"Kelly?"

Severide was stumped, hunting for the right words. He needed to be careful with what he said. Didn't want a repeat of the hospitals scenario where he'd blurted out Casey's problem to everyone in earshot.

"It's confidential then?" Boden continued. "Think I can guess. He hurt himself?"

Severide's green eyes widened in surprise at the guess.

The chief tilted his head. "He was falling apart in front of us… just didn't think he'd ever go that far…"

Severide was relieved he hadn't had to say it. "Me neither."

"You don't need to tell me the details, I'll sort sick leave out…"

"Maybe furlough's better… Looks better for Casey, doesn't it?"

"I'm with you on that, Kelly. Consider it done." Boden nodded.

"Herrmann and everyone keep asking about him… Casey's not replied to any messages, didn't have his phone, showed him the messages and he's still not… Chief, I don't know what to do," Severide despaired.

"You'll be there for him Kelly. Do you need any time off?"

"No don't think so Chief. And thanks." Severide left Boden's office feeling like a weight was off his shoulders. He knew the Boden would be as good as his word.

* * *

Casey's committal hearing had taken place earlier that week; he was required to stay on the psychiatric ward until his doctor, Lyle Adams, deemed it safe enough for him to be released and put on an outpatient service. Before that could happen they needed to be a hundred percent certain that Casey wouldn't make any further attempts on his own life. When he had been told the decision he had shrugged and remained silent. Casey was talking, some of the time, in his one to one therapy sessions but during his group sessions he wouldn't talk, not even to the therapist, and certainly not to any other patient. And that was how the majority of Casey's days were spent behind the secure doors of the psychiatric ward.

Severide had not been on the ward since Casey had been admitted, he hadn't visited for an entire week having heeded the advice of the staff. He wasn't sure what he had expected when he turned up to visit, but it was not what he found when he was taken to Casey's room.

"He's in his room, I'll take you to him." The female nurse told Severide when he was buzzed through the secured entrance to the ward. A moment later they were in Casey's room. He was lying on the bed wearing a set of white scrubs, not his own clothing. His hair was plastered to his face with sweat, his face ashen, eyes almost closed. Sturdy leather restraints secured Casey's wrists and ankles to the bedframe and another strap was fastened around his waist, preventing any movement.

Severide was horrified at Casey's appearance. "He's restrained," he commented at the obvious thick leather straps. Trying to remain calm, repeating to himself that the staff knew what was best, they'd dealt with this and worse before but this was Casey. His Casey.

"He hit a member of staff yesterday, gave them a concussion," the nurse explained.

"You've drugged him too?" Severide suspected, he could feel annoyance creeping in.

"He was going to hurt himself," the nurse replied.

Severide began, frustration evident. "Because he thinks he's being…"

"Attacked when he's restrained, it was a last resort, he was a danger to everyone and himself," she explained.

Severide sat down next to where Casey lay. His eyes were heavy and his breaths rasping. A thin trail of saliva ran from the side of his mouth and down his jaw. Severide took a tissue from the box on the table and wiped it away gently, his heart heavy.  
  
"I wish I could have done something, Matty," he said softly. He didn't know if Casey was so far gone from reality that his words would mean nothing but he said them nevertheless.

Casey replied, his eyes remained half closed, his words slurred, verging on incoherent, some missing but he had heard Severide. "… Nothing… you… hid…"  
 _  
_ _Fourteen days before the overdose._

_God it hurt. Just sitting on his office chair hurt. Shots of pain were firing all around his body. He should have called in sick. Couldn't leave now. He'd drawn his blinds for some privacy. He wanted to curl up on the bed but he couldn't for appearances sake because it was mid-day and at any moment someone could..._

_There was a knock at the door, Herrmann poked his head through. "Lunch is up... you all right, Lieutenant?"_

_"Headache." It wasn't a lie. His head was pounding._

_"I'll go grab you a plate," Herrmann stated._

_"You don't..." But Herrmann had left before he could finish._

_"You get a cat, Casey?" his right hand man questioned when he returned, placing a plate of lasagne on his desk, glancing at his arms where he had rolled up his sleeves._

_Casey ignored the question and muttered his thanks. Herrmann left him to it. He pushed the plate of food away. Pain shot through him again. It wasn't agonising, it was uncomfortable but bearable. He'd be all right if he were busy. If he was distracted. He swallowed a couple more painkillers dry and leant back in his chair._

_With everyone eating lunch it was a good time to wander off to the bathroom. His boxers felt wet. The bleeding had slowed though. He knew he should have told someone, got some medical attention, but then he'd have to admit what had happened to him. He'd woken up in a cold sweat in the early hours of the morning, flashes of memories had assaulted his brain and woken him from his fitful sleep. Flashes of faces. Noises. Smells. Sensations. God it had hurt so much._

_Severide caught him on the way back from the bathroom. "You look awful."_

_"Thanks. You look beautiful too," he replied dryly, trying to escape back to his quarters._

_"You free tomorrow? Could do with a hand down at the boat yard," Severide asked._

_"Busy, got a construction gig."_

_"Don't fall off any more ladders." Severide grinned and walked into his own quarters to the mountain of paperwork that was awaiting him, and Casey closed the door to his own office._

_Maybe Casey could tell him, just maybe. No. No. He couldn't, what would Severide think? Casey couldn't recall putting up much of a fight the other night, couldn't recall telling them to stop so why would Severide even believe him if he said that he hadn't wanted it._

_It wasn't long until Dawson walked straight in without knocking. "So this is where you've been hiding out all day?" she smiled and sat on the end of his bed._

_"Not hiding," he stated._

_"Thought you were gonna come over last night? I did call you," she questioned, concerned._

_"Sorry baby, must have got caught up with work, you know how it is." He shrugged._

_"You fell off a ladder?"_

_"Yeah… I'm all right, just a little bruised and scratched," he replied._

_"Why did you fall? Dizz…"_

_"I just fell, lost my footing, that's all." He shrugged again._

_"Kelly said you looked sore when…"_

_"I'm all right, don't need a paramedic," he grinned._

_"Not even a get well kiss from one?"_

_He smiled. "That I'll have." But Casey tensed under her lips._

"You don't need to hide anything anymore, I'd never think of bad of you, Case, never." Severide turned back towards the nurse, "Can we undo the restraints?" His face somewhat pleading.

The nurse shook her head. "No, only the doctor can do that. Sorry."

"You been goin' round hitting people again?" Severide teased, trying a different tactic. "I know you're probably scared but everyone is trying to help you get better, I've been wracking my brain round it all week and the offer still stands, you're gonna come stay with me when you're outa here…"

Casey couldn't focus, his awareness was dim, body relaxed, eyes blurred.

"I'll be back, Case, and we can talk, when you're not doped up, ok?"

"No…"

"You want me to stay?"

"Don't… leave… me…"

"Ok," Severide nodded. "Sorry they drugged you, I'll see if I can…"

"No," Casey's voice was clearer now, "Need."

"You don't need it."

"Hurt…" he slurred, trying desperately to get his thoughts across thought thick layer of fog that surrounded him.

"You hurt someone... I know, but I also know that it wasn't your fault."

"My fault."

* * *

Severide was leaving the firehouse a few days later, strolling across the apparatus floor and out to his car when Dawson caught up with him, concerned etched across her face. "Kelly, have you spoken to Casey? I went by his place yesterday and…"

"He's gone fishing I think," Severide replied, "He took a load of furlough."

"And he can't be bothered to pick up the phone?" she questioned, her voice slightly huffy, clearly annoyed that he hadn't contacted her, hadn't even let her know he was going anywhere.

"He's not taken it," he explained.

"What's up with him? He didn't even tell me…"

"Didn't tell me either," Severide shrugged. "Look Gabby just give Casey some time. He'll tell us what's up if he wants to, you know what he's like."

"You _do_ know something?"

"He's just going through some stuff… you know this is never a good time of year for him," Severide tried to explain.

"Yeah of course." She thought for a second. "I'd forgotten about that. Well, if you do hear from him remind me that I am here for him."

Severide gave his characteristic nod of the head and a smile. "Yeah, I'll let you know, Gabby. Have a good Thanksgiving." He sighed when she left him, how many more lies was he going to have to tell?

* * *

Thanksgiving came and went. Casey was sitting alone on the couch in the common room when Severide arrived, his knees brought up to his chest, there was an open book on the seat next to him, he'd started to read it but he couldn't concentrate and instead he stared off into the distance, taking no notice of the people around him, the staff, the other patients. He'd been there for nearly two weeks now. His weight had dropped rapidly. His clothes drowned him.

Severide knelt down in front of him. "Hey," he smiled warmly.

He turned away from the blank wall his gaze had been burning through, he looked exhausted, there were dark bruise like shadows under his once bright eyes. "Kel…"

"You look like crap, Casey, you need to eat more." Brutal honesty, Severide wasn't going to pussyfoot around the subject, he hoped Casey would appreciate that.

"Eat more, sleep more, talk more," Casey listed.

"Sorry… I know it's hard." Severide stood up then sat down next to him, he didn't miss the way Casey moved away, creating more than mere inches between them.

"No, you don't," Casey commented lightly, "Doesn't matter. How was Thanksgiving?"

"Ate too much, drank too much," he replied with a smile.

"Do you think I drank too much?" Casey questioned suddenly, almost desperately.

Severide frowned, unsure what Casey was talking about. "What?"

"When we went out for your birthday? Did I drink too much?"

"Erm... I don't think so, why?" Then realisation dawned. "Jesus Matty…" He rubbed the back of his neck, more out of frustration than need. "Thought you went straight home?"

"Was going home," Casey replied.

"I…" He shook his head in disbelief. "I should have gone with you."

"Can't turn the clock back." Casey shrugged his shoulders in resignation. "My fault anyway."

"No Matt, no it wasn't," Severide stated. "If Shay was raped would you say it was her fault? … If I was, would you say it was my fault?"

"No," Casey replied immediately.

"Then why was this your fault?"

"Must have done something." He was shaking his head.

"You did nothing wrong," Severide tried to reassure him.

"I did nothing to stop them." Of course Casey gave his words a different meaning.

"Matt you were drugged and outnumbered, there was nothing you could do," Severide tried, but Casey was just looking away, avoiding eye contact. "Look, it's lunchtime, thought we could have something together." He earned a curious frown from Casey. "Sound good? We can eat together in your room, I checked, I've brought some food with me, all your favourites plus some very burnt brownies."

"You baked?" he questioned with surprise.

"Shay would not call it baking… more like making a mess of the kitchen and 'incinerating' the first batch of them… You're gonna have to make some with your aunts recipe when you get out of here."

"Not getting out of here," he scoffed.

"No?"

"Did they tell you?"

"About the committal hearing? Yeah, Matt, and you're not here indefinitely," Severide replied. "So, will you eat with me? I'm starving!"

Casey followed Severide to his small room and watched as Severide took the Tupperware boxes out of the bag he'd been carrying, Casey sat on the bed but made no move to take any of the food.

"At least try a brownie. Case?" Severide almost pleaded.

"Ok," he nodded and slowly he picked up the smallest piece from the box. Severide tried to ignore how Casey took a long and thoughtful look at the brownie in his hand, as if he were making sure it wasn't poison. Severide didn't know how heavily Casey's heart was pounding in his chest, how his thoughts were twisted in his head. But he took a bite and then another until Severide seemed satisfied. Then he stood up and went to leave the room, only he was stopped.

"Bathroom?" D'ante questioned him, he'd been sitting outside of Casey's room.

"Yes," Casey nodded. "On my own, please…"

Severide watched the exchanged. "Just let him go to the…"

"Are you going to make yourself throw up, Matt?" D'ante quizzed. Severide hadn't realised Casey was still doing that, the doctor had made no mention of it to him.

"I… I just need…"

"You're not throwing up, Matt, I'm more than happy to take you to the bathroom for anything else," D'ante replied.

Casey moved away from him, running a hand through his blond hair, he was clearly distressed, Severide stood up from the bed. "It's all right, Case."

"No…"

"Why do you want to throw up?"

"I just… I can't…"

"Can't what, Matt? Please explain it to me, maybe I can help?" Severide tried.

"No… no, you can't help, I'm just… I'm too… too dirty, disgusting, can't have anything, I can't, I can't, it makes it worse, makes me worse." He was stumbling over his words, his breaths were coming out quick and ragged.

"I'm sorry, Matt, I don't understand," Severide spoke gently, trying to calm Casey down.

"They chose me, they picked me, they picked me!" Casey exclaimed. "And…" his voice quietened, "… And I don't know why."

"Because of your appearance? And what… you're trying to destroy that? … Matt…" He wanted to reach out and hug him, reach out and comfort him, but as soon as he stepped forwards Casey moved away from him.

D'ante and another member of staff moved in and attempted to calm Casey down, he'd now hit the wall and slid down it, he'd curled in on himself, trembling.

"Stop, don't, let me try," Severide suggested and he knelt down in front of Casey. "Matt, come on, you're all right, come on, look at me, just look at me…"

Casey was trying to back further away.

Severide grabbed his forearms, Casey panicked, Severide had expected it, he'd expected Casey's frantic thrashing about but Severide wasn't going to let go, Casey wasn't going to be able to remove his hands, too exhausted from the lack of sleep and food.

_Sixteen days before the overdose._

_Casey stumbled out of the club. The cool night air hit him. His head felt as if it was trapped in a vice and his eyes wouldn't focus. A few people were standing around in the entrance, smoking and chatting, no doubt cooling off after being in the hot stuffy atmosphere inside. He hadn't had enough alcohol to make him feel this bad but he couldn't really remember how much he had drunk. He felt dizzy and sick and everything seemed to be moving around him. He couldn't steady himself and put a hand against the wall for balance. He gathered himself and brushed past a few people but after taking a few steps he stumbled again, someone caught him before he lost his balance completely. First he felt relief, maybe Severide had followed him out of the club._

_"Sev…" he slurred as his body gave out on him. He fell, collapsing into waiting arms._

"Sev..?"

"I'm here Casey, I'm here." And Casey fell into the embrace. Severide could feel him trembling under his touch but he wasn't trying to pull away, he'd relaxed into him. "I'm here," Severide repeated soothingly and the staff backed away.

* * *

Severide's next visit was a little over thirty-six hours later. Casey was in his room again, on the bed, a thin tube taped to his unshaven cheek. A dejected expression across his pale face. They had warned Severide about the possibility of all this, the NG tube and the mesh mitts on his hands to stop him constantly pulling it out because he'd already pulled it out twice. There had been so little improvement over the past two weeks that they had eventually started Casey on some new medication, a different SSRI.

"God... Case..." Severide approached him on the bed. The white bandages had been removed. Severide couldn't remember his wrists and arms being so small before.

Casey looked up. "Hi."

"Hi." A small frown appeared between Severide's dark brows. He hadn't expected any sort of welcome. "So, how you doin' today?"

A slight shrug came in response to that question.

"Listen, I got somethin' for you. Severide dug around in the bag over his shoulder. Casey's interest was piqued when Severide pulled out several brown folders containing papers. "Reports from your relief lieutenant, thought you might wanna get a head start on reading them. The chief said I could bring them for ya. Know you like to know what's happening when you're not there."

Casey eyed the mesh mitts miserably and shook his head. "Can't. They won't take these off unless I'm supervised."

"Right, of course, sorry. Well, I'll leave them over here for ya to read when you can then."

"Sorry…"

"No need to apologise, Matty." Severide shook his head.

"Why do you keep coming?"

"Don't want ya to be on your own through this," he replied honestly. "Can I sit next to you?"

"Sure." Casey nodded his agreement, the corners of his mouth drawn up into just the semblance of a smile, then a frown took over. "Sev... when I get out of this place do you really want me to stay with you?"

"When I get out of this place," Severide repeated Casey's words, a huge beaming smile across his face. Casey just gave him a quizzical look. "Thought you didn't think you'd ever get out of here?"

"You don't think…" Casey trailed off but Severide's eyes remained encouraging. "You don't think I'm disgusting, dirty... used? Do you?"

"No, not at all, and I really do want you to stay at my place," Severide replied, "For as long as you need. You're more than just my best friend, Matt."


	6. The Worse Memory

It had been four weeks since Casey had been admitted to the psychiatric ward, over five weeks since he'd overdosed, nearly two months since he'd been assaulted. The NG tube was still in place, the mesh mitts were not. Severide visited every day when he was not on shift, even on Casey's 'bad' days. The days where Casey had to be forced out of his room and into the daily activities that had now become his life, because some days he just didn't want to get out bed, didn't want to see anyone, didn't want to speak.

"Sometimes I wish I could remember it properly... is that wrong?" Casey questioned Adams thoughtfully in a quiet voice, he was clearly becoming stronger now able to face up to his mental and physical injuries. "I mean, to be honest, I wish I couldn't remember it at all but I get all those flashes, sometimes I just can't make sense of them..."

Adams shook his head. "No, Matt. It's not wrong to want to know exactly what happened, what they did to you. It's human nature."

"Didn't even remember straight away... just came in bits and pieces. I'll never fully remember what happened and I'll never forgot the things I can remember." Casey's brows knitted together into a frown as he thought it through. "It's kinda like being in limbo and I hate that."

"So go through the night with me," Adams urged, over the last four weeks he had only been able to piece together fragmented snippets of things Casey had told him along with evidence from the physical examination.

Casey shook his head. "Then it's real."

"What do you mean?"

"If I tell you then it makes it real," Casey replied, "If I tell you exactly what I remember then you'll know."

"It is real, Matt, and if we talk it through we can help to process it, to give it some sense," Adams explained.

"It was Severide's birthday, we weren't working the next day so we all went out," Casey began to relate his memories to Doctor Adams.

"Who's 'we' Matt?"

"The guys, erm… Sev, most of the Squad crew plus Cruz, Otis…"

_Sixteen days before the overdose._

_Casey felt as if he was trying to push through a thick cloud as he fought to open his eyes. He could smell damp, could hear muffled voices. Rough hands held him in a vice-like grip, holding him on his knees, gravel grated at the skin beneath his pants. He tried to open his mouth to speak but his muscles wouldn't obey and nothing but a strangled moan came out. He couldn't form any intelligible words. He managed to get his eyes to open but it was too dark to be able to make out anything but fuzzy shadows. The pressure on his shoulders increased as he was hoisted up onto his unsteady feet. He swayed as hands unbuckled his belt and opened his zipper. His brain was too slow to realise that his pants were now being yanked down, his shoes were thrown away, his boxers were torn off._

_Some primeval instinct kicked in and he fought against the hands holding him but his body wouldn't respond and his arms were pulled viciously backwards. Pain shot through his shoulders and arms. Something was nicking at the tender flesh of his inner thighs but he was incapable of kicking that something away._

_There were so many hands. Clawing. Scratching. Squeezing. Caressing._

_The hands holding him disappeared. Someone grasped his jaw, tilting his face upward. Brutal lips were forced against his. He could taste alcohol and cigarettes. He bit his tongue. He could scarcely breathe. He was forced down onto his knees once more. There was that sound again. A zipper opening. Something was forced into his mouth. He had no resistance, no fight in him. In. Right to the back of his throat. Out. Then in again. Further this time. Out. In. Out._

_A voice sneered, "Hey our lovely boy's good at this. He's enjoying it. Having a good time, huh?"_

_Laughter._

_His head was pushed back and forward as the assault continued. He was choking. His mouth filled with a bitter substance. He had no choice but to swallow. Then another man. There were disgusting wet sucking noises. Another man and another. His jaw was screaming against the strain of being forces open for so long. His stomach rebelled from the thick liquid in his throat. There was a sharp sting across his face. Then it continued. His legs were kicked wide apart. He'd have fallen forwards if it weren't for the man in front. Hands began to touch him; intrusive, painful, violating. He screamed around the mass in his throat as the man behind him thrust all the way in._

_He could hear the sound of distant sobs._

_He couldn't think through the pain and the fog. His head was freed, he fell forwards onto his hands, coughing and spluttering before his hair was pulled and his head was yanked viciously backwards. He couldn't help but moan. Salty tears ran into his open mouth he realised he had been the one crying._

_"See, he likes it."_

_Casey had no idea how long it had gone on for when they finally seemed satisfied and he was let go, his head lolled and he collapsed forwards from his hands and knees and onto the ground._

_"Get him up."_

_"Ok gorgeous, up you get. We've not finished with you..."_

_Footsteps scuffled around him and he was pulled to his feet, manhandled over to a dark spot by a wall. His face and chest were shoved up against the cold bricks and his legs kicked apart. Someone stepped behind him and held his hips in a bruising grip._

_The pain was so bad his brain delayed it._

_He couldn't even scream anymore, instead there were some pathetic moaning noises escaping his mouth, as if he had no breath for anything more. He'd hoped the initial penetration was the worst of it. He was wrong. Tears were being squeezed out his tightly shut eyes. Saliva mixed with a pearly white substance trailed out over his swollen lips as his face was pushed against the wall. In and out. His feeble moans were now silenced behind a large unforgiving hand._

_Despite his drugged state he felt indescribably agonising pain as they forced themselves into him. One by agonising one. He wanted to scream. He couldn't function. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted them to kill him. That would have been better than this hell they were inflicting on him. He had no idea how many of them there were, nor how long he was held there against the wall. They took turns to torture him with their brutal attack. He could do nothing. He couldn't fight back, couldn't do anything to prevent their frenzy._

_He became numb. It was as if his mind and body were separated. He felt nothing. Like he wasn't even there. They kept on and on until he fell into blessed unconsciousness and they threw him down onto the ground, his body smacked onto the concrete._

"I didn't fight back," Casey spoke despondently.

"But you couldn't fight back, Matt," Adams' voice was reassuring and calm as it had been whilst Casey had recalled what he could of that fateful night.

"I don't think I tried. I didn't try. I can't have done or…" Casey was still convinced that what had happened must somehow have been his own fault. That he was responsible for what they had done to him.

"You told me that you did try to fight back, Matt, you tried as best you could…"

"Not hard enough though, did I?"

"They drugged you, Matt, no one can fight that."

"How? Why wasn't I careful? I could have stopped it... why the hell did they pick me?!" Tears were threatening to fall from Casey's eyes now.

"I don't know why they chose you, Matt, maybe you were just unlucky, maybe you were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But what did I do wrong?" his voice was becoming hoarse, his throat tight with emotion.

"You didn't do anything wrong Matt, nothing at all," Adams reassured him.

"If I did nothing wrong then why did it happen?!"

"Matt listen, ok? Bad things happen even when we haven't done anything wrong..." Adams kept trying to convince Casey. "Things just sometimes happen..."

"Things just happen..?" Casey shook his head. "No. I did something that made them do it. Did I say something or do something by accident that pissed them off? Knock into them? Spill their drinks? Did I see them? I can't remember any of the faces in there… not before it happened, not after. What if I did do something that made them choose to do that to me?"

"Matt, if you had done any of that, would that have justified what they did to you?"

"I… I don't know…" his voice was strained and small. He shrugged. "Maybe not."

"Nothing justifies rape."

Casey looked away, down to the side, there was clearly something on his mind but Adams didn't press the matter, he knew Casey well enough to know that this was a far as they were going to get today.

* * *

Severide smiled when he was let through the secure doors onto the unit. "We all good for today?" he asked the nurse through the glass window that separated the small office from the ward.

"He's all ready for you." She smiled and pushed a clipboard through the gap. "You just need to sign this."

Casey's door was open but he knocked anyway before entering. "You all set, Case?" he asked, "Got what you need?" he glanced at Casey's appearance, he'd had a shave although it looked as if he hadn't bothered to tidy his hair, there were still dark purple shadows around his eyes, the PEPs were keeping him awake with vivid dreams. A new NG tube was taped to the other side of his face. The bottle green hoody hung off him, at least two sizes too big for him now.

"Erm...you got a belt?" Casey asked, frowning down at his jeans. They had fitted him before, and now they didn't.

"In the car. Thought you might need one." Severide smiled.

"Thanks, didn't really wanna be seen in any of those joggers in public, and these are..."

"Way too big and falling down now," Severide finished his sentence for him as the two Lieutenants so often did for each other.

"Don't you think I look better though?"

"What?" Severide frowned, taken back by the question. "Now you've lost even more weight? No, Casey. You looked great before. Now you look ill." He could always be counted on to be brutally honest, he wasn't going to pander to Casey's illness.

"I feel better." Because he feels more in control of the chaos that has surrounded him for weeks.

Severide chose to ignore the comment. "Come on then, let's get outa here. You have to be back for 5pm and I've got lots planned for you."

"Yeah?" A tiny smile came to Casey's face.

"Uh huh," he smiled. "First we're gonna swing by your place so you can check it's all ok."

* * *

Casey emerged from the hospital bundled in Severide's coat and hat, his were waiting for him in the car, his hands were shoved deep in the pockets. He stood for a few quiet moments taking in the fresh clean air, something he hadn't been able to do since he'd been brought to the hospital after his overdose.

"It snowed," he commented, staring around.

"You not look out the windows?" Severide said jokingly.

He just shook his head, taking in the sight of the freshly fallen snow that covered the parking lot. "That old guy is always stood by the window in the common room, always talking to himself."

"You're  scared of an old man who talks to himself?" Severide scoffed.

Casey turned to face him. "I think I'm scared of everyone." Before he could see the expression on Severide's face he'd looked away, he'd expected him to laugh at his weakness just as he'd been laughed at in that alleyway. But Severide didn't laugh.

Despite the recent fall of snow which would normally play hell with the traffic, it didn't take them long to get to Casey's house. They'd spent the short journey in comfortable silence with Casey spending most of his time gazing out of the window at the world they had locked him away from. Severide watched Casey closely as he walked around the house, pausing every now and then. The bathroom was open since Severide had ripped the door from its hinges all those weeks ago, and Casey stared into the spotlessly clean room.

"I'll fix this for you." Severide ran his hand along the frame.

"Sev…"

"Yeah?"

"I think I want to say thanks… I dunno… I should say thanks… but part of me still… sorry, you don't wanna talk about the mess my head is in…"

"If it helps you then I do want to talk about it, I do want to listen to you," Severide reassured him.

"Whatever." Casey retreated back into his protective shell and wandered off into his bedroom.

Severide followed and found him almost glaring at the uncovered blood stained mattress.

"I want to go. This isn't good for me…" Casey spoke quietly and carefully, eyes still locked on to the bed

"Sure." Severide nodded, and he walked up to him. "We'll go. You need anything?"

"Nothing I can have," Casey retorted, eyes downcast.

Once he was back on the passenger seat he let out a deep breath.

"You ok?" Severide questioned as he put the key in the ignition.

"Not really," Casey admitted.

"Why? Talk to me…"

Casey just shook his head

"Case?"

"It's just… How the hell did I let things get so bad?"

"Casey, you tried to deal with what happened on your own. But now you don't have to do that, you never have to deal with anything alone, ok?"

Casey shook his head again. "Where to now?"

"Lunch," Severide smiled.

"Oh right…"

* * *

The traffic was heavy over the West Jackson bridge as Severide drove towards their destination. Casey was looking around the city that he loved and missed so much. As the car came to a halt at the junction, Severide pointed. "Look, that's where we're going." He nodded towards the huge skyscraper with the antennae. "Skydeck for lunch, I know you love the view."

"Not been there for years. You're not worried I'm gonna jump off it?" Casey questioned sardonically.

"Through all that glass? No, not worried." Severide grinned at him.

After what seemed like an era but was probably about ten minutes the traffic began to move again and before long they were pulling up in a parking space. Severide sorted out the ticket and they walked over to the elevator, going down to the ground level and then walking over South Franklin to the tower entrance. It was staring to snow again and there was a long line for the restaurant. It was well past noon when they finally got seated. Severide was on the point of holding Casey upright by the time they were at the front of the queue, but he didn't think he'd be pleased about it so he refrained.

A bright smiled waitress led them to a table right next to the window, leaving the menus for them. "I'll be back in a while for your order." Severide couldn't help himself and he turned to watch her attractive rear view walking over to another table.

"Give it a rest," Casey laughed, "Just for a day, can you manage that?'

"So, what do you want to eat?" Severide asked lightly. "Think I'm gonna get the steak and new potatoes and some veg..."

"Just a garden salad," Casey replied, staring down at the menu.

"Salad?" Severide guffawed, "Casey, you gotta eat more than that. Have the hot chicken with it, you know it's good."

The waitress soon returned to their table. Severide made his order and was in the process of ordering the salad with hot chicken when Casey interrupted him. "No just the salad on its own please," he told the waitress.

She smiled. "That's fine. And what would you like to drink guys?'

"Two cokes," Severide replied, grinning at her.

"Coming up." The waitress smiled and walked away

"Will you quit fiddling with that?" Severide spoke. 

Casey's hand dropped from the tape holding the tube in place. "Yes mom," he retorted, the emphasis very much on the word 'mom'. He sighed. "Gets on my nerves."

"Well it'll be staying until you start eating properly so the quicker you do the better, right?" Severide reasoned. Casey said nothing.

When their order arrived Casey stopped listening to Severide's trivial musings and stared down at the plate of salad in front of him. His heart was pounding and his stomach fluttered. This wasn't planned. He had just figured he wouldn't have to eat all day because he was away from the regimen of the hospital.

Casey's thought were interrupted by Severide's gentle voice. "Talk to me, Matt."

"I just… I didn't think we were gonna eat." Casey shrugged.

"It's lunchtime. Everybody eats at lunchtime. It's normal."

Casey let out a long sigh. "I know." Then added as an afterthought, "Sorry."

"What are you worried about? What you look like? That you're gonna throw up if you eat anything? What?" he tried.

He just shook his head.

"I don't understand it. Sorry," Severide's voice was apologetic.

"Don't be," Casey replied, "I don't get it either, it… it just feels better. It feels good."

"You fainted this week," Severide told him matter-of-factly. At Casey's questioning glance he continued, "Yup, they told me. Surely eating so little that you pass out can't feel good?'

"I am tired all the time," Casey admitted wearily.

"Then eat up," Severide smiled, "And you can have some of these potatoes as well, there's way too much for me here. I know it's not easy for you but will you try? For me?'

Casey's gaze shot up from the plate in front of him and into Severide's green eyes."I'd do anything for you."

* * *

D'ante passed Casey his pills and a cup of water the next morning. "How was yesterday?"

"Tiring," he replied honestly before he swallowed the pills and proved that he had done so by opening his mouth wide and lifting his tongue, a routine he had to go through each time he was given any medication at all. He saw no reason to pretend, he knew he needed them, just as he'd needed the Prozac after Hallie's death. "Kelly took me up to the Skydeck," he smiled. "How was your day here?"

"Well believe it or not Eugenie did not interrupt TV time with her glorious singing," D'ante told him with a smile.

"I definitely don't believe you… and I've heard a lot worse than her." He smiled at the memory.

"Oh yeah?" D'ante retorted.

Still smiling Casey replied, "Severide thinks he has the voice of angel. He does not. More like the voice of a strangled cat."

D'ante laughed heartily. "How long have you worked together?"

"A lifetime," Casey's replied.

"It's such a brave profession," D'ante commented.

"I was shit-scared most the time." He laughed self-deprecatingly.

"For your life?" D'ante became more serious now.

"No. Everyone else's. Sometimes… sometimes you just don't get there time… or you're not fast enough… or something happens to one of your own…" he sighed, "I'm scared of everything now. Don't know if I can ever do that again. I was never brave or strong. I'm certainly not now."

"You were scared but still went into those burning and collapsing buildings. That _is_ brave. That _is_ strong," D'ante told him firmly.

He looked down at his scarred arm. "If I was strong I wouldn't be here."

"Rape and sexual assault is truly the worst trauma anyone can ever go through and you survived it; you are a survivor."

"Not by my choice," Casey scoffed cynically, "If I'd have my way I wouldn't be here. Kelly wouldn't have found me after I took those pills."

"Do you believe in God?"

"You're asking me that 'cause you're gonna say that things happen for a reason... but things just happen. There's no reason. No big plan. We all just like to pretend we have some sort of control, in reality we have nothing."

"We have everything around us, the world is beautiful," D'ante countered, "And you think it now, but not everyone in the world is out to get us."

Casey just frowned, thinking, and asked, "Can I use the phone?"

"Of course," D'ante smiled.

* * *

A couple of days later Chief Boden knocked on Casey's hospital room door. One of the ward staff had shown him there and said he could go in but he felt it more polite to knock first.

"Yeah, come in," he heard his truck lieutenants voice from the other side of the door.

"Hi Casey," he greeted Casey with a thin smile as he went in. Casey was sitting on the side of the bed wearing a very loose pair of joggers and a CFD hoody minus its drawstring.

"Thanks for coming." Casey stood up.

"Thanks for the call, Matt. It was good to hear from you," Boden replied, indicating that Casey should sit back down. Boden sat down on the bed next to his truck lieutenant. Casey fought the urge to move a few more inches away from the man. "Matt, I just want you to know that I'm here as your friend. Nothing more. No agenda, ok?"

"I'm sorry for keeping you out of the loop... I wasn't thinking... didn't even care," Casey admitted.

"It's ok, Matt," Boden nodded.

"No its not Chief. I mean... I was sectioned. That's not fine and not ok."

"You are and always will be welcome back to the house whenever you want, whenever you're ready," Boden told him. "I won't let this, whatever it is, stop you, no matter what anyone else may say."

Casey repeated his remark with a scoff. "I've been sectioned and that'll never look on any resume, will it? Wouldn't hold your breath, don't intend on coming back or much else."

"Well as far as I'm concerned your spot will always be there for you," Boden reassured him.

"Don't know if I want it," Casey replied honestly. "Don't know if I could do it... I've lost who I am and I don't think I'll ever... don't think I'll ever be that person again." Casey's face became sad as he thought about what he had just said.

"Listen Casey… Matt, whatever has happened to you, you are still that person you were before, you are still you. And your relief lieutenant is just that; a relief. For however long it takes."


	7. Christmas Decorations

Casey was released from inpatient services four days before Christmas.

Severide went up to the ward for what he hoped would be the final time and thanked the nurse at the desk for all they had done for him, passing her a huge box of chocolates to share amongst the staff that had cared for Casey. She smiled and just nodded towards Casey's room. "He's ready to go, Kelly," she told him.

"'K, thanks." He went off to fetch Casey. When Severide arrived Casey was sitting on the bed that had been his for what seemed like months now. He had already packed his few permitted belongings into the canvas duffel bag that now lay beside him on the bed. The NG tube had been removed the day before, not a comfortable procedure but one he had been forced to endure more than once now. Although he still had serious issues with food, and would for some time to come, for now the tube was gone. And his second batch of STD results had thankfully come back negative. Things were looking better.

They both left the hospital by the main entrance a few minutes later. It was still snowing. Severide slung Casey's bag into the trunk of the car and they both got in.

"Well that's over and the only way is up now." Severide grinned. "Let's get home then."

"Your home, not mine," Casey answered softly. Severide had insisted that Casey could stay with him as that was the only condition on which they would release him at that stage, and since Shay had moved out of the apartment and in with her girlfriend a few weeks ago Severide could keep a close eye on what Casey was doing. No way could he be left to look after himself alone in his own home yet, if ever. If Severide had his way Casey would never be on his own again. He thought Casey had liked the idea but now he wasn't so sure, he hoped his mood would pass, he'd expected him to be happy he was leaving, not this withdrawn.

Casey trailed along the hallway after Severide and into his apartment. He'd almost forgotten how nice the place was. He glanced around. "You hidden all the sharp and pointy objects?" he teased.

Severide shrugged. "Pretty much. If you wanna shave just…"

"Ask you," Casey finished. "Yeah, I know the drill."

"What?" Severide quizzed when Casey continued to look around the apartment.

"It's Christmas in four days, where are all your decorations?"

"All in boxes in the closet." Severide shrugged. They were the last thing on his mind. "Listen, you can have Shay's old room or the spare. I made 'em both up."

"Don't mind..."

"Actually, I think you should take the spare, they're the same size." Severide pointed Casey toward the spare room at the end of the hallway. Shay's old room had an ensuite bathroom and he didn't want Casey to be able to start throwing up in secret again, although the doctor had made no mention of it he didn't want to risk it. Whoever was in the spare room had to use the main bathroom and he'd taken the lock off the door.

"All right," Casey accepted. "Well, I'm gonna sort my stuff…"

"Have you set an alarm for…"

"Those pills that stop me wanting to kill myself? Yes." Casey nodded and quickly took out his phone from his jeans pocket and pulled up the alarms he'd set, so used to having to prove everything to everyone over the past few weeks.

Severide let out a short laugh. "We even allowed to joke about this?"

"Best not in public," Casey retorted, pulling a face.

"Like most things then," Severide grinned back at him. "So, you want some lunch?"

"I'll get something later, journey made me feel a bit queasy."

"Since when did riding in my car make you feel sick?" Severide was clearly somewhat suspicious.

"Kelly, not hungry so not gonna eat," he replied forcefully.

Severide just shook his head. Casey was being stubborn and nothing he could say would make any difference, he should have expected it. "Ok, well, I'm gonna make some lunch then."

"And I'm gonna unpack." He swung his bag over his shoulder and made to walk away.

Severide stopped him. "We should really go to yours later and get some more stuff."

"Won't be staying for long, don't wanna get in your way," he said honestly.

"You're not in my way, Case, never would be," Severide replied. "So, you do need some more of your things here. And really you're here for as long as you need, as long as you want."

"Got to go home eventually," he stated.

"Or you could always move in with me," Severide suggested quickly.

"How very forward of you, Kelly Severide," Casey said, imitating the voice of a southern belle, his mock frown turning into the best grin Severide had seen for a very long time.

"Not joking," Severide replied.

"I like my house, I put a lot of work into it," he explained.

"I know, just… your head isn't in the best place right now… not in the right place to be on your own, not after everything that happened to you…"

"You don't need to keep reminding me that something happened, I was there," Casey stated scornfully, "And my head's just fine."

* * *

That night Casey suffered through a nightmare, he'd hoped the PEPs had been the cause but he'd stopped taking them. But at least the nightmares weren't happening quite as frequently as he thought they would considering the trauma that he had gone through. The events of the assault had come back to him with varying degrees of clarity, in flashes of memories while he slept over the days that had followed the attack. Tonight he had woken up shaken and sweating after re-living the assault in vivid technicolour. It was only the second time he had dreamt it all so clearly and fully. Half the time he was convinced that he must have made some of it up in his subconscious because there were still gaps in his waking memory.

He walked through to the lounge area and sank down into the couch, knowing he would get no more sleep for some time, so he switched on the TV, channel flicking to see if he could find anything to occupy his mind and stop him focusing on his nightmare. Severide soon appeared at the top of the spiral staircase.

"Did I wake you? Sorry..."

"No." Severide shook his head, starting down the stairs. "Thirsty."

"I'll mute the…"

"Can't hear it up there," Severide replied. "You have a nightmare? They bad?" he asked as he took a carton of juice from the fridge and poured himself a glass.

"Sometimes..." Casey responded quietly.

"You should go back to bed." Severide paused by the couch.

"Nah, couldn't sleep yet if I wanted to," he scoffed.

"You might not want to but it looks like you need to," Severide replied, then he teased, "You look like a racoon." Casey turned his attention back to the TV. A que for Severide to leave but he only continued. "You want a midnight snack?"

"No."

"All right. You'll go back to bed?" he questioned, concern evident.

"Kelly, you don't need to worry about me anymore. They let me out didn't they? I'm fine."

* * *

There were three days left until Christmas and the apartment was still bare. Severide had drank his juice and fell into an uneasy sleep, he woke again in the early hours of the morning and instead of trying to get a few more hours rest he started digging at the back of his closet to find the boxes he wanted. He pulled them out one by one and carried them down into the living room, plonking them onto the couch that he'd found Casey on in the middle of the night. He thought it would be wise to check on him, to make sure he was sleeping soundly after his nightmare. There was a constant nagging feeling in the pit of Severide's stomach that Casey would soon relapse and have to be re-admitted to hospital. That wasn't helped by Casey's eating habits and although he did seem more like himself every now and then, those moments were fleeting before thunderclouds shifted overhead.

He padded over to Casey's door and pushed it open carefully, quietly. The room was still in relative darkness and Casey was hidden under the bed covers, only his hair sticking out at the top. No point waking him up, sleep would be the best thing for him, at least until his alarm went off to remind him to take his medications.

Pulling from sleep when a body is so worn out and undernourished is a massive effort and it took Casey a while before his brain could focus and get his body to move. He didn't know why he had woken at that precise moment but then he heard the noise of someone shouting and swearing loudly. A male voice. Severide he assumed. He managed to push himself into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of his bed, wiping his hands over his face and rubbing his eyes. It was 7:36am. His alarm would chime in twenty-four minutes, a reminder to take his pills at 8am, supposedly on a full stomach.

He stood up slowly, feeling a little lightheaded. A sensation he was well accustomed to now. Catching sight of himself in the mirror as he crossed the room, he stopped for a moment. He was a ghost of his former self, a good thing in his mind, because he never wanted anything like that fateful night to happen to him again. He had been chosen for a reason, he was certain of it. They had called him gorgeous. Well, he wasn't gorgeous now, not that he had ever viewed himself that way, and he was determined never to look like that again.

After another loud curse from Severide Casey opened the bedroom door and walked slowly into the Christmas wonderland that Severide had created. Tinsel hung over the mantel place and mirrors, glass ornaments adorned the small tree he had put up in the corner of the living room. He stood silently behind Severide for a few moments, gazing at the coloured lights.

Severide suddenly caught site of Casey in his peripheral vision and jumped, not realising he was even there. "God Casey… don't do that to me! Make a sound or something will ya?"   
  
But Casey was too busy to bother responding, staring around the room, the rainbow of tree lights reflecting in his eyes.

"What?" Severide quizzed him, breaking the silence.

"This."

"You seemed disappointed yesterday," Severide replied.

"You didn't have to go to so much trouble. I mean..." A huge smile came to Casey's face as he continued to gaze around the apartment. The like of which Severide hadn't seen for a very long time. A real smile.

"I did, for that smile alone."

That ear to ear trademark dimpled smile was still on Casey's face as he walked over to the tree and took hold of the blown glass fire truck hanging on gold thread. He turned to Severide. "Thanks for this, it's brilliant."

"You gonna be all right tomorrow? I can take..."

"I'll be fine. It's only twenty-four hours..." Twenty-four hours where Casey knew he wouldn't have to eat anything and that gave him an incredible feeling of calm, of control.

* * *

On Christmas Eve Severide got back to the apartment after a fairly quiet shift. He was pleased he had Christmas Day off this year so he could spend the day with Casey. He wouldn't have been able to stand leaving him on his own on Christmas Day after all those weeks in the hospital. Ordinarily Severide would have gone straight to the gym but he'd wanted to get home as soon as he could since he hadn't heard much from Casey while he was on shift, just a few text messages. He put his bag down and walked further into the apartment, no sign of Casey, he poked his head into his bedroom, no Casey.

"Shit…" he muttered under his breath, heading for the bathroom, peering in through the door. No Casey. He spun back around and walked back over to the living area and with a thrill of relief he saw Casey lying sound asleep on the couch, on his stomach with one arm draped onto the rug.

"Case?" Severide questioned gently, he didn't want to startle him, but as it turned out Casey was only sleeping lightly.

"Mmm?"

"Meds. Have you had them?"

"Uh huh…"

"All right… I'll let you sleep then," Severide replied.

"I'm awake now." Casey sat up and stretched.

"Sorry. You had any breakfast?"

"Yeah," Casey lied. "Wanna go for a run?"

"A run? Not a good idea."

Casey frowned. "The sidewalks will be clear of snow…"

"That's not the problem," Severide stated. "Why don't we go for a walk instead? Then we can make mince pies or something? Yeah?"

"You have stuff in to make them?" He hadn't expected that.

"I happen to love mince pies," Severide smiled.

"But not Christmas decorations?" he quizzed.

"Just cause I'm not as into Christmas as you are doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good mince pie," Severide stated.

"Why don't you like Christmas?"

"Why do you like Christmas?" he countered.

"Snow and lights make everything prettier," Casey replied simply, he'd not loved Christmas until he'd met Hallie and her enthusiasm for the holiday had been infectious.

He answered Casey's question with a heavy sigh. "Our family get-togethers always ended in big bust ups."

"Think that true for almost everyone," Casey replied cynically.

"And I think we both have a jaded view of family," he replied with half a smile.

"You probably need some therapy." Casey teased with a grin. "I know a guy…"

* * *

December 25th arrived with a snowstorm and below zero temperatures. Severide turned up the heating to keep Casey warm as he had to wear so many layers indoors now because he felt constantly cold. The two of them spent the morning in the kitchen cooking Christmas lunch for themselves, even though Severide's original plan had been to go out as a few people had invited him to various different dinners and evening events. But he would never tell Casey that. And anyway, Severide would rather spend the day with his best friend, even if it was just to reassure himself that Casey really was getting better. Plus he'd always been great company despite that fact that they butted heads now and again. And, as he kept on insisting to Casey, he wouldn't have invited him to stay, move in even, if he didn't want him to be there.

Casey put his knife and fork down on his empty plate and took several long gulps of water. Severide smiled, still ploughing through the remaining mountain of food in front of him. He had given himself almost three times the amount that Casey had eaten.

"l know that wasn't easy for you, Case, and I'm real proud of you," Severide smiled.

"Proud of me?" Casey scoffed at him. "What am I? An eight year old kid?" he laughed

"Don't have to be a kid for someone to be proud of you," Severide replied.

"Proud of me for eating dinner?" Casey mocked.

"Fine, next time I won't comment," Severide replied dryly.

Casey leant back in his chair and sighed wearily.

"You all right?" Severide asked between mouthfuls of food.

"Fine. Just full," Casey replied.

"You'll sit here and wait for me to finish?" Because he didn't want Casey to sneak off to the bathroom, just in case. He waved a forkful of food about. "You want some of this? It's good."

"It's covered in fat." Casey eyed the meat with distaste, despite helping Severide to cook their small Christmas meal, he'd only given himself vegetables, some potatoes and a small amount of turkey breast.

"That's probably what makes it so good." He took a bite.

"I don't want any… So, you're really stuck with me all day?"

"It's nearly 3pm Case. But Shay said she'd try and get round a bit later on," Severide replied.

"She knows I'm here?" he questioned.

"She does." Severide nodded.

"Does everyone know?"

"Everyone knows you're back in Chicago."

Casey frowned. "Where did I go?"

"Fishing," Severide supplied.

"Oh." His frown remained. "Have you told Shay? She is your best friend…"

"Do you want me to tell her?"

"I'm… I'm fed up of lying… hiding… but I don't want everyone to know…" He sighed, clearly torn. "I've had a million voicemails and messages and I've not replied to a single one… Shay will know straight away if she sees me later…"

"Know what? That you were assaulted and…" Severide couldn't bring himself to use the word 'raped' even though he knew that was the truth.

"That I've been locked up in psych."

"How would she know?" he quizzed.

"Scars on my arm, the… the way I look..."

"Listen Matt, you can tell people as much or as little as you want, whatever you're comfortable with, you know."

"Not comfortable with anything..." he replied honestly.

Severide nodded in understanding. "I can tell Shay not to come round..."

"No, don't do that, she's your best friend and I can hide out in my room. Everyone will just think I went fishing and that I'm back…" He sounded like he was trying to convince himself though.

"And you'll be back at work in no time, Casey, you will."

Casey's eyes were downcast. "No. Don't know if I can do that," he shook his head. "Look… I'm tried, need to get some sleep." Casey got to his feet and picked up a pile of dirty pots from the table since Severide had now finished his meal.

"Tell you what, I'll call Shay and tell her we'll meet at a bar or something..."

"Your place, your choice," he replied with a slight shrug of the shoulders.

"Thing is Matt, it's yours now too."

* * *

The following morning Casey awoke to the sound of his bedroom door creaking open and Severide's quiet footsteps. He had to force his eyes open. The room was still in darkness and he knew he didn't have to take any of his medications for at least another hour. He stirred, changing position under the covers.

"Casey, I'm going to work. Call if you need anything, ok?" Severide's hushed tones penetrated Casey's sleepy brain.

"Uh huh, yeah," he murmured into his pillow. '

"There's food in the fridge. Leftovers from yesterday, they just need heating… You gotta eat Casey, all right?"

"Yeah sure…" he mumbled. But it was an out and out lie. Casey would have felt bad if he weren't so determine to keep up his act. He was still lying to Severide about eating, he'd told him that he'd had his meals when Severide was on shift when in reality he wasn't eating a thing when he was on his own, he'd disposed of the food Severide had left out for him, he could deal with the nausea that the pills gave him when he took them on an empty stomach.

Casey spent most of his day switching between channels on the TV and sleeping, just as he'd spent most his days since he'd been released from the hospital. He was miserable. He'd never pictured his life this way. He'd always liked to keep himself busy, always had plenty of jobs on. He had always worked towards something, and yet now all he could do was sit on the couch, someone else's couch, and watch daytime TV, constantly fighting the urge to pack up and leave Severide's place and go back to his own home. He felt like a burden, leaching off Severide, unable to look after himself adequately, hell, he was a grown man, not a kid. The only thing he had control of was his eating. He couldn't even control when he slept. His medications had caused his sleeping patterns to go completely haywire, and he'd never slept so much in his life. And he had never felt so tired in all his life either.

* * *

A couple of days later Severide found himself sitting in the hospital waiting area as he kept an eye open for Casey. He was flicking through a magazine but paying no attention to it. When Casey appeared at the end of the corridor Severide stood up, chucking the magazine back onto the side, and went to meet him by the edge of the waiting area.  
  
"All good?"

"Fine, can we get outa here?" Casey replied hastily, looking uncomfortable.  
  
This was his first time back in hospital since his release from the psychiatric ward and he had spent an hour with Lyle Adams as the man tried to get to the bottom of his eating and control issues. His reasons clearly ran deep and the doctor had attempted to give Casey a rational explanation that he would be able to comprehend it but Casey couldn't see it, couldn't see that it was all caused by the assault. Casey didn't want to understand it and he didn't want to get better. And if he didn't want to get better then there would be no getting through to him. Threats of another period of hospitalization wouldn't help and could be detrimental to Casey's recovery. They didn't want to force anything on to him after the improvements he had made whilst he'd been sectioned.   
  
"Sev, let's get out of here… please," Casey repeated.

"Just gotta swing by the store on the way back," Severide replied, looking nonplussed as Casey just turned his back and started striding towards the exit. Severide quickly caught him up. "We can pick out something nice for lunch? You must be hungry?"

"I'm always hungry." But he liked the empty gnawing sensation, it was satisfying, satisfying to know that he was in control of that, he caused that. Because it felt like he'd achieved something, like he was slowly gaining back the control that had been taken away from him.

"We'll get a load healthy stuff, organic… how about that?"

"I'll have some more fruit." Casey nodded.

"We can get some of that natural yoghurt that Shay used to fill up the fridge with, that'll be nice with the fruit," he suggested.

"Yeah it would."

"You can eat it, it's good for you."

They reached Severide's car in the parking zone and got in, only on the move for about ten minutes when the traffic suddenly backed up to a halt. Casey took no notice, far too occupied with his own dark thoughts to realise what was going on around him. He looked up as he heard Severide's door open.

"Casey wait here," Severide instructed as if he were talking to someone at a fire scene. But Casey had spotted the smoke that had pulled Severide out of the vehicle and towards the action. Without a second thought Casey threw the passenger door open and followed Severide to the accident. Casey rushed to Severide's side by the overturned pick-up truck, but was stopped in his tracks by a telling shake of the head. So the two of them moved on.

"Ma'am, can you hear me?" Casey began as he assessed the scene.  
  
There didn't appear to be anyone else in the vehicle. Severide left Casey to it and went over to another of the four vehicles involved in the accident.  
  
"Ma'am, can you hear me?" Casey repeated.  
  
The woman inside could barely nod her head.   
  
"Listen, we're gonna get you out of here, ok? I'm a...I'm a firefighter, and there's more on their way. We're going to help you. Just keep calm, ok?" he reassured her. He could smell gasoline and see fuel leaking, creeping towards the truck that had caught on fire. He had to act now, he didn't think twice before getting to work.

Once the fire crews arrived Severide and Casey handed to scene over to them and went back to Severide's car. Casey looked exhausted but some colour had returned to his pale face. "Dunno why you keep on saying you can't go back to work Casey. You were just fine then..." Severide began.

Casey just shrugged and replied with a non-committal shrug. "I guess." 

"You guess?" Severide shook his head. "That woman wouldn't be alive if you hadn't got her out of that car so fast. She's alive and gonna get to see her kids later."

Casey just frowned. He couldn't deny that he felt good inside about it. He had saved a life today. Saved a family from devastation.


	8. Guilt

Casey was restless, he was tired, exhausted even, after the accident that he and Severide had become involved in earlier that day, but he couldn't sleep and he didn't particularly want to sit watching the TV. He looked out the window, the sun was low in the sky, almost sunset, but there was still some ice and snow left on the sidewalks. He pulled on his black polar jacket and CFD beanie hat and made for the door, hoping Severide wouldn't hear him leaving the apartment. He just wanted a little time to be on his own, some thinking time where he didn't have to justify his every move to someone, to anyone. The air was freezing and it took away his breath momentarily. But it felt good to be outdoors again.

He figured he could visit the 7/11 at the end of Severide's block and get some supplies while he was out. When he reached the store he went straight in and started to search out the items he wanted. Before he had got any of them into the basket a group of men bustled into the store and gathered around the till area, laughing and joking with the person behind the counter. Casey started to feel sick, he felt himself break into a cold sweat. They were between him and the exit and he needed to get out. Right now. Supplies would have to wait. He could sense the colour draining from his own face and he tried to be mindful of what they had taught him at the hospital, tried to take deep steadying breaths and try to focus his mind on something other than what was causing his distress.

"You ok?" the man behind the counter asked him, clearly a little suspicious of Casey's appearance and obvious nervousness.

Casey stared round for the nearest item to where he stood. He picked it up, smiling, "Just this." He handed it over to be scanned and gave the man some bills in payment. He took the item and his change and stuffed both into his jacket pocket. He pushed past the group of young men, who in the end completely ignored him and just kept on chatting to the man behind the counter.

Casey stood on the icy sidewalk outside the store for a few moments, his breath turned into white clouds in the cold. Trying to calm himself down. Shit. He cursed inwardly. He'd just let a bunch of kids frighten him. And he'd just bought a bottle of whiskey instead of the supplies he wanted for Severide to pay him back in some small way for what he was doing for him. But he couldn't bring himself to go back into the store so he ended up wandering back along the block to the apartment, the bottle burnt a hole in his jacket pocket.

Severide heard the door as Casey came in. "Where the hell did you go?" he shouted from the top of his stairs.

"Out," Casey breathed. "Didn't know I was under house arrest." His voice gave away his irritation, not with Severide, with himself.

Severide was down the stairs in an instant just as Casey took the bottle from his jacket. "What is that?" Severide asked, purposely leaving a gap between his words.

"If I wanted to hide it I could. I just went to the store and..." Casey began, attempting to explain what he was doing with alcohol which was strictly off limits for him.

Severide was staring at the bottle of whiskey, as if it had personally offended him in some way, whilst Casey stumbled over his words. He interrupted him. "I came across something when I was online... You can't just take a whole load of pills and down them with a full bottle of alcohol… you'd just throw them all back up."

"Yeah. And?" Casey's demeanour was becoming confrontational, he could feel his anger rising, wishing he could explain to Severide what had happened.

"You must have been sitting there in your bathroom for quite a while. Taking a few pills, then some booze. And so on…"

"Kelly, if you wanna have a go at me then go ahead, feel free. But don't you think I already feel guilty enough?"

"What?" Severide just frowned. "I thought you...'

"Thought I didn't care about anything? Wasn't thinking about anyone?" Casey shook his head sadly. "You're wrong, Kelly."

Severide shrugged. "Who then? Certainly not yourself…"

Casey's eyes burned into Severide's before he spoke, "Who the hell do ya think?" he retorted, "I was terrified what it would do to you…"

"But you still…"

"Part of me thought that you didn't, that you wouldn't give a damn what I did but then part of me… If it was the other way around then… then I'd care… a lot more than I'm probably supposed to. I didn't want to care. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to do all of this. Because if I told then you would care, you'd do all of this, have me here in your place, keep checking up on me… and it would be so much harder than if you didn't care about me… I wouldn't feel so guilty all the time."

"You didn't want me to care about you? Matt, whether you had told me or not I would have always cared about you… even when we were butting heads… God, I felt so guilty then…" Severide trailed off.

"I've lost so many people I've cared about, who've cared about me… I didn't want to lose you," he admitted.

"You're not gonna lose me," Severide smiled. "Ok sure… I mean, I could get hit by a car or anything and die tomorrow, any of us could, but I plan on being around for quite some time, ok?"

Casey bit his lip nervously. "You should hate me for what I did, what I tried to do..."

"I don't hate you, Matt," Severide's voice was hushed. He could see how tough this conversation was for Casey.

"I'll lose you…" his voice cracked.

"I promise you won't."

"You can't make promises like that. I'll lose you like my parents, Andy, Hallie, Gabby... myself... I lost myself..."

"You're right here." Severide was moving gently, slowly towards Casey, who was beginning to sway on his feet, almost unaware of it. "You're right here," Severide repeated soothingly, pulling him into a gentle, comforting embrace. Casey flinched, his muscles tensed at Severide's touch. "You're not gonna lose me, and I'm not going to hurt you."

Casey let out a deep breath, blinked the tears away from his eyes and almost collapsed into Severide's strong hold, with what sounded like a tiny sob muffled into the man's sweater. After a few heart rending moments Casey pulled back from Severide's arms and sniffed, wiping his sleeve over his face.

"Sorry..." Casey muttered, clearly embarrassed by what had just happened.

"Listen, we should have some dinner, yeah? I'm gonna do spaghetti, with that recipe you gave me, your aunts right?" Severide said kindly, smiling, "Sound good?"

"Yeah,'' Casey mumbled behind his hand, but he had no interest in eating anything. Even though he knew it would eventually make him ill.

Severide stood up and paused. "Eventually thing's will get easier, things will get better."   
  
But Severide wasn't sure he believed his own words. In fact he wasn't sure if Casey was ever going to properly get over this. Casey was strong, Severide knew that, he had survived so much in his life. But this time he just didn't know if he would be able to get over it all. Severide wasn't sure if those bastards actually had destroyed his life and his future. It was so clear now that nothing would ever be the same again for him, but Severide was sure as hell going to try.

* * *

Severide was tired and pleased to be back at the apartment. It had been a long and difficult shift and he was just thankful he didn't have to go back to 51 until after the New Year. It was the first time for years that he hadn't had to work over the holiday. They had all planned to get together at Molly's at some point on New Year's Eve and Herrmann, in typical fashion, had said he would lay on a constant buffet for everyone so they could come and go as they pleased throughout the day and into the evening. He was looking forward to that and hoped that he might be able to persuade Casey to go with him, although that was doubtful given his current state. Severide dumped his bag down just inside the door and pushed it shut. Just as he did his phone went off so he pulled it from his pants pocket and took the call. Some stupid automated message told him he had won something so he terminated the call and put his phone back.

Then with a thrill of annoyance he heard the very distinct heaving sounds of someone throwing up. Not again. What the hell Casey? He thought all that was done with. Obviously not. He walked quickly to the open bathroom door and sure enough there was Casey sitting on the floor vomiting violently into the toilet. He was scarcely able to grip the sides as he continued to throw up, unable to fight off the terrible waves of sickness that clutched at his insides. It just wouldn't stop. Acid burned his throat as he threw up time after time. He was so weak now that he could hardly sit up and had almost collapsed onto the tiled floor.

"What the hell are you doing, Casey?" Severide began angrily. "I thought you'd stopped all this..."

"No… not like that…" Casey managed to croak.

"You're sick?" Severide's expression softened, worried now as he watched Casey gagging and heaving wretchedly. There was nothing left to come up but frothy liquid and bile.

Casey's head moved slightly to indicate that he was and he made a small noise that didn't mean anything. Severide's demeanour altered immediately and he knelt down to place a hand against Casey's forehead. Even in such a debilitated state Casey recoiled from his touch.

"Just want to check you over," Severide explained and when Casey didn't protest he held the back of his hand against his forehead. "Well… good news. You don't have a fever." Perhaps Casey had managed to pick up some sort of infection, his immune system wasn't great right now so maybe that explained the vomiting.

Casey continued to gag wretchedly, throwing up only frothy liquid. There was nothing else left.

"Can't... move..." Casey managed to croak, heaving again before his stomach finally started to quell.

"Good thing I'm here to help then, have you been at this all night? You should have called me."

"Didn't realise." He wheezed. Severide didn't know whether Casey meant that he hadn't realised how long he'd been sat on the bathroom floor or if he meant he wasn't sure if he should have called for help.

"Need to get you laid down, ok? Think you're up for that?" Severide breathed as he got to his feet and managed to lift Casey up without too much difficulty. His body was almost completely limp as he carried him into the bedroom he had been occupying for the last week. He laid Casey on the bed and left him in his joggers and hoody. He couldn't take the risk of frightening him by trying to get his clothes off. By the time Severide wrapped the covers around him Casey was more or less senseless.

Severide sank down in the chair at the corner of the room with a heavy sigh and hoped that whatever bug Casey had caught had already done its worst. This was the last thing he needed right now.

* * *

Severide was lounging on the very comfy couch watching a Blackhawks game on TV when his attention was drawn away from the screen as he heard Casey stumble out of his room, knocking heavily into the hallway wall as he did so. He'd only left him three or four hours ago and hoped he would be improving by now.

"Hey! Feeling better? You coming to watch the game?" Severide called, wondering why Casey was even out of bed.

"No… drink," Casey muttered in response, using the wall to keep himself upright. The room seemed to be spinning around him, or was it him that was moving? He couldn't quite figure out which it was and he could see grey swirls in front of his eyes.

"I would have got you..." Severide started but he didn't get any further before Casey's legs just gave way under him and he sank to the floor. Severide shoved his beer can onto the coffee table and got up, shooting straight over to Casey. His eyes were half open but unfocused. Severide turned him into the recovery position. He seemed to be in a stupor, neither completely unconscious nor aware of what was happening to him.

As he lay in front of Severide he began to try and throw up again, bringing up only frothy fluid. Nothing else was in his stomach.

Severide tried to help Casey up from the floor. "Need to get you back in your room," he said, to himself more than anything. He started to try and hoist Casey bodily to his feet.

But Casey started struggling to get out of Severide's grip, grunting with the effort of trying to push him away. "Get off..." Casey's voice betrayed his fear and it suddenly hit Severide what was going on in Casey's head. "No... stop... leave me alone... no..." he was muttering now, rambling even, but Severide could pinpoint his thoughts exactly. "Get off me..." Casey started again. "Please don't... no..."

"Hey Case, its me... Kelly. It's all right, you're just... Matty, can you hear me? I'm right here..."

Nothing.

Casey didn't respond. His eyes were only half open but he was still trying to push Severide away, although he had little strength. Severide hooked one arm around Casey's shoulder and half carried him back to his room. When he laid him on the bed again he was still trying to struggle against his imaginary assailants. Severide held his hand against his forehead, checking for a fever. Felt normal. So that wasn't the cause of this latest bout of sickness then. Casey continued to try and throw up. It just wouldn't stop and he was fast going to be seriously dehydrated at this rate. His own EMT training told him that logically Casey should have a high fever but he just didn't and Severide couldn't quite understand what was going on.  
  
Casey was alternating between throwing up bits of liquid and hallucinating wildly again, calling for Severide to leave him alone. He couldn't even keep down the tiny sips of warm water that Severide managed to get him to swallow. He just kept on fighting, thrashing around, clearly re-living his assault and rape.

"Case, you're not there, you're not there, I promise, it's all over, please... Matt, you're here, you're right here with me..." But Severide's words did nothing, they could not penetrate Casey's delirium and after almost two hours, he simply fell silent, his body unable to support consciousness.

When Casey was finally still Severide was at last able to check his heart rate. Fast and uneven. His respiration rate seemed relatively normal if a little shallow. Whilst Severide knew that Casey didn't want anyone to know anything about what had happened to him, he also knew that if he died because of it, Severide would never ever forgive himself. He was on the point of calling Shay up and asking her advice when Casey's eyes flickered open.

Casey was focused on him now, aware of his surroundings. "Sev?" he frowned, wondering why he was sat by his side.

"How are you feeling?"

"Wasn't I getting a drink?"

"You were, you collapsed," Severide explained simply.

"Oh…"

"How do you feel now? You feel sick? You still don't have a fever, your heartrate's settled…" Severide explained. "You were thrashing around and shouting at me to get off you but I wasn't anywhere near you."

Casey just shrugged, there wasn't much he could tell Severide. He couldn't remember any of it. In truth he felt worse than he had ever done in his entire life. Weak and more than exhausted. "Nightmare? Drink..."

Severide passed him the glass of water from the nightstand but Casey's hands were shaking and he had to hold it in both so he didn't spill it. He managed to down almost half the water before he started to throw it up again. It splattered down his front of his hoody and onto the covers. He was unable to stop his stomach lurching. "What's… wrong… with… me?" he managed between heaves.

"Reckon you've got stomach flu," Severide reassured him, "You just need rest and plenty of fluids so just try and have a drink, ok?"

Casey nodded tiredly and took a few short sips of the water and this time managed to stop his stomach from rebelling. He soon fell asleep and it gave Severide the chance to get some rest but he remained in Casey's room, he sat on the easy chair he had put by Casey's bed.

Lucidity came and went for Casey during the night. At times he awoke and could carry on a normal conversation with Severide and then he would lose himself in a stupor where he didn't even know who Severide was, or where he himself was. Severide must have fallen asleep half a dozen times propped on comfy cushions in the chair, but he woke up suddenly every time Casey stirred or moaned. At least he had stopped vomiting so Severide figured the worst must be over and at around 4am he decided to risk going to bed to try and grab some proper sleep.

* * *

Severide's alarm went off just before 8am. He woke with a headache after being at Casey's side for so long during the night. He stretched and sat up in bed, listening for any sounds from the floor below. All quiet. He got up and went quietly downstairs to Casey's room. He was still asleep but Severide knew he would have to wake him to take his meds because he'd not managed to keep any down the day before. He walked to the bed and gently touched Casey's sleeping form.

Casey was awake in a flash, with a startled grunt from the back of his throat. He moved like a shot to the far side of the bed, tangling himself in the bed covers in the process. "No... le... me… pl…" his voice pleaded, revealing his fright. He couldn't form words and didn't even realise that it was Severide was by the bed. His breathing was shaky and his eyes were open but he couldn't see reality. He was back in the alleyway behind that club.

From somewhere Casey could hear Severide's voice. Calm, gentle, telling him he was all right but how could he be all right when he was back there? His arms and legs wouldn't move, he must have been drugged again. But how in the hell had they got to him? He'd not gone out when it was dark and the only time he'd been without Severide was when he went to the 7/11. That group must have followed him from the store and drugged him somehow. Oh God. No. Not again. He couldn't go through it again. He would die this time. He knew that. His stomach began to heave again. He had no control so he gave in, he let their voices, their touches, consume him, he let everything consume him.

Severide watched helplessly as Casey sank into the bed. The worst was far from over. He took the stairs two at a time to his room and grabbed his phone. The dial tone almost rang to voicemail but Severide soon heard Shay groan at the other end. _"Jesus Kelly, it's not even 9am… what do you want?"_

"Hypothetical question…" Severide began, straight to the point. "If someone was vomiting, delirious but has no fever what would you do?"

 _"Casey?"_ she questioned full of concern.

"Just hypothetical," he reminded her as he walked back down the stairs into Casey's room.

_"He's still staying with you right? How long has he been…"_

"This hypothetical person has been like this for more than twenty-four hours."

 _"Kelly take him…"_ Shay paused, _"I'd take this person to the ER if their symptoms didn't improve."_

"Right, thanks," he replied relived that he had decided to call her.

_"You want me to meet you there?"_

"Hypothetical," Severide reminded her.

 _"Yeah, yeah, whatever,"_ she sighed down the phone, _"You'll let me know if you need anything?"_

"Sure, yeah. Of course. Maybe see you later at Molly's?"

_"Yeah, maybe. Love you."_

* * *

Severide decided to wait for Casey to wake since there'd been no more night terrors, or whatever they were, and no more vomiting. It was mid-morning when Casey opened his weary eyes and found Severide asleep in the chair by his bedside. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel the blood rushing into his head. His limbs felt heavy and as if they weren't his own. He attempted to push himself into a sitting position but his body was weak and unresponsive.

Casey's strained groan shocked Severide back to consciousness and he awoke with a start. "Hey…" he began gently, wondering whether Casey was really awake or lost in memories. "Are you feeling better? You look a little less nauseous."

"Don't feel sick," Casey whispered, his throat was sore and dry.

"How do you feel?"

"My chest feels…" He frowned trying to think of the right word. "Strange."

Severide leant forwards. "I'm checking your pulse," he warned Casey before reaching out and touching him at the carotid pulse point on his neck. He felt Casey flinch but he remained still. Severide checked his radial pulse too, just to be sure. He shook his head. "Your heart's racing again."

"Again?"

Severide simply nodded before stating. "I'm taking you to the hospital." He gave Casey no chance to protest and just helped him off the bed and half carried him down to the car and got him into the passenger seat. Casey only started to protest that he didn't need to go to hospital when he realised Severide had pulled in at the ER doors at Lakeshore, but Severide just held him tightly as his legs wouldn't support his body and practically carried him inside.


	9. Admitting It

Someone pushed a gurney over to them and Severide laid Casey down on it. He was struggling to speak, let alone make any more protest, as they wheeled him away into one of the trauma bays. Chest pains were never taken lightly. They stripped away Casey's clothes and covered him with a sheet and blanket. Severide watched as medical staff swarmed around him, attaching all manner of equipment to him and taking bloods. ECG pads were stuck to his chest. An IV port was put into his arm.

The ER doctor came into Casey's view above him. He was a kindly grey haired man. "Matt, I need you to answer me honestly," the man began as he peered down at Casey's file. "Have you taken anything? Overdosed on your meds?"

Severide edged closer to where Casey was lying. "Doc, he's barely been able to take what he's meant to. He hasn't done this to himself if that's what you're asking…"

"Ok," the doctor nodded and looked back to Casey. "Matt, have you had any alcohol?"

Casey managed to shake his head.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Severide's brows creased as he waited for Casey to reply. He couldn't be sure of the answer himself and he was suddenly engulfed in guilt. He was supposed to be watching out for Casey, supposed to be making sure he didn't get into any kind of trouble again, but here he was, standing in the ER once more, unable to answer a simple question such as when Casey had last eaten.

"Matt, when was the last time you ate anything?" the doctor repeated.

"Been sick..." Casey muttered his excuse because they weren't going to like his answer.

"I know," the doctor nodded, "When did you last eat?"

Casey hesitated and averted his eyes, he already knew how badly Severide would think of him. "That day you made spaghetti…"

"You've not eaten for four days?" Severide almost shouted. "How could you just…"

The doctor interrupted Severide and spoke calmly. "All right Matt, I suspect the arrhythmias and vomiting have been caused by an electrolyte imbalance."

Severide struggled to keep his anger at bay, angry at Casey for not eating, angry at himself for letting this happen. Of course he knew Casey had been struggling for the last couple of days but to learn that he wasn't eating at all unless Severide made him. That was a kick in the teeth. He wished he had taken furlough and been with Casey all the time since his release but Casey had insisted he didn't need that. With a little more calm he spoke up and explained. "I think he's been hallucinating… or at least been having very vivid nightmares…"

"A low potassium level would account for that, we'll get some bloods to confirm," the doctor explained to the two of them before turning to his colleague. "Get the blood tested for BUN and creatinine, potassium, glucose, magnesium, calcium, and phosphorous. And give him IV fluids for now to rehydrate."

"Can I have a word?" Severide nodded away from Casey who now had his eyes closed as another needle was inserted into his arm.   
  
The doctor moved away from the bed, out of Casey's earshot.   
  
Severide asked, "Will he be admitted?"

"Depends on the test results and treatment," the doctor replied.

"But he's not eaten for four days?"

"Doctor Adams will be coming to see him since he's on his service, I couldn't tell you what he'll decide, but medically we should know soon and then we can get some treatment in place." The doctor gave Severide a reassuring smile. "I'll be back with his test results as soon as we have them. He's in good hands here."

The doctor left and Severide turned his gaze towards Casey, his eyes were back open but they weren't those beautiful bright eyes, they were tired, heavy and worn. Severide watched as he flinched away from the nurses touch, watched as his left hand fiddled with the pulse-oximeter. Severide stared at the jagged scar on his right arm and wondered whether all of this was intentional, was his aim to kill himself? Because that's exactly what he was doing. Ironic that he could save lives as a truck lieutenant but he was completely incapable of saving his own.

* * *

Casey's blood work results came back within a couple of hours and as the ER doctor had suspected, his potassium levels were dangerously low, so he was admitted onto a critical care ward for treatment with infused IV's. And an NG tube had been re-inserted and taped to Casey's face. That wasn't a surprise to anyone, least of all Severide.

He entered Casey's room and sat down on the hard plastic chair. If Casey was going to be in here for more than twenty-four hours he would have to find something more comfortable to sit on. He wouldn't withstand the stool for long that was for sure. He let out a long sigh as he took in Casey's appearance. Casey's eyes had opened when he heard the door go and he looked at Severide through a blur of tears.

"This isn't quite how I planned to spend our New Year's Eve," he said softly.

"Why are you here then?" Casey replied tiredly. He had nothing left in him now, hadn't protested his admission back into hospital, had been silent when the ER doctor told him Doctor Adams would be seeing him again, didn't care that the NG tube was back again, too tired to care.

"You really have to ask?" Severide retorted wearily.

Casey's eyes moved from Severide's for just a fleeting moment. "Sorry…" he whispered, "I am... really."

Silence fell and a few moments later Casey pushed the covers back and started to swing his legs out of the bed.

"Whoa… where you goin' Casey?" Severide had to stop himself trying to grab Casey to prevent him falling as he tried to stand up.

"Bathroom…" Casey whispered.

"You gonna make it there and back without collapsing on me?" Severide asked him with a faint smile, his mind thinking of all the recent instances where he had had to hold Casey up on his feet when his legs wouldn't support him, had to half carry him around the apartment, lay him on the bed.

"Managed for the past few days, haven't I?" Casey's voice became slightly indignant.

"Most the time," Severide retorted.

Casey just pulled himself to his feet and steadied himself with the IV pole, wheeling it into the bathroom with him. Some minutes later he emerged and got himself back into the bed. "Starting to feel better now anyway," he told Severide as he settled himself back down onto the half inclined bed.

"You will do 'cause you're getting proper nutrients that your body needs to survive." Severide hadn't meant his remark to sound as harsh as it did. He saw Casey's face fall into a disappointed frown. He'd just said he felt better and Severide had shot him down in one.

"Said I was sorry…" Casey muttered. "I meant it."

"Casey, I gotta ask... Are you doing this on purpose?"

"What?" Came the astonished reply.

"All this? Are you doing it on purpose? You're killing yourself. Do you still want to die?"

Casey didn't reply for a few moments, searching for the right thing to say. "No… I… I don't think so..."

"You don't think so?" Severide wasn't sure what to say himself.

"It's hard... I..."

"It's hard? Well, it's hard for me too, Casey. You _are_ killing yourself. You aren't eating and it's killing you. It will kill you. And I'm just watching you fade away and I can't do anything to stop it. How do you think that makes me feel?" The floodgates were well and truly open now.

"I said…" Casey began.

"Don't tell me you're sorry again. If you were you would stop. You would have stopped this by now. And I know that's not easy but you're not even trying."

"I'm not trying to kill myself," he shook his head adamantly, "I'm not."

"But do you understand that's what you are doing, Matt? You're starving yourself. And you will die if you don't stop."

"I like it... I like the…" Casey paused. "It feels good, Kelly. It's the only thing I can control now. I can control what I look like… I can stop anything happening again so that I don't want to kill myself because I was… I was out of control..."

"Casey you have got control of your life."

Casey shook his head. "I don't have any control. I didn't have any control and I…"

Severide heard as Casey's voice began to crack. "Matt…"

"I asked you if I was dirty… disgusting… and you said no. But... but I am... there was something I didn't tell you… didn't tell anyone…" Casey swallowed, his hands were shaking.

"Go on..." Severide encouraged him to keep going. He couldn't let him clam up now.

"When I was… I… I got hard…" He closed his eyes for the longest moment.

"Oh, Matt that…"

But Casey wasn't listening. "I must have wanted it. Must have asked for it…"

Severide felt as if his heart would crack.

Casey scoffed but there were tears filling his eyes as he spoke. "You've been there sometimes when people have… you know... called me a faggot... even my dad told me I was..."

"God, Casey, that doesn't matter. And even if you were gay it doesn't mean you were asking for it, does it?"

Casey just shrugged.

"Come on Matt, you know it doesn't…"

"Then why?" his voice broke. "Why did they do this to me?"

"Listen, Casey… they did it because they're sick people. They are sick, twisted bastards and you can't let them do this to you. Torturing yourself. Starving yourself. That isn't punishment for them. You're only hurting yourself. You don't deserve that. You didn't deserve any of this. There are people who love you and you have to get better. If not for yourself, then for them."

"No one…"

"I do," Severide stated. "You're my brother, Casey. You're family to me. More than family."

Casey said nothing.

"God, Casey if you haven't realised that by now then I reckon you've taken one too many blows to the head. You're not alone."

"I push everyone away… I pushed Dawson away because…"

"Because you were hurt, you didn't want anyone to know what had happened. Do you want to talk to her?" he asked softly.

Casey shook his head. "It was never a good idea, I need to keep my personal life separate from work… especially if I'm going to go back…"

"All right," he nodded, "You'll heal, Matt, you will, you just need some more help." Severide's relief showed in his tone. At last he was getting somewhere with Casey, getting him to open up.

"Yeah… I do…" Casey paused. "Do you think I should stay here again? Do you think I should…"

"If you wanna admit yourself, if that's what you think best, then do it. But if you're just thinking this because you feel like a burden to me then don't. Because I want to help you. I want to help you, Matty. l want to be there for you," he tried to reassure him.

"You have been there for me and I am sorry that I'm not any better."

"But you are Matt. You are better than you were. A month ago you wanted to kill yourself. Now you want to live, right?"

"Trying to." Casey smiled faintly but he'd averted his eyes.

A knock on the door interrupted the two lieutenants, and a nurse shuffled in carrying something Casey recognised all too well. A feed bag to be attached to the NG tube. "Hi honey," she greeted Casey, smiling warmly at both of them. "How are you feeling?" She took a look at his monitor screen. "Your vitals are looking better."

Casey simply nodded.

"He does seem to be a bit better," Severide answered her.

"Good." She smiled as she attached the bag to the NG tube. "I'll be back in less than an hour, Matt," she explained before she left the room.

Severide was staring at Casey, searching his face but Casey wasn't giving any of his thoughts away. "You've not tried to pull that out?"

"No point," Casey shrugged. "… And I don't want to die. I didn't mean to do this to myself… to make you… to make you watch… I'm going to try, gonna try and get better. Just don't know how…"

"Don't do it just for me, you need to do it for yourself, I didn't mean to make you feel guilty, I just wanted you to see it from my position."

"I know," Casey nodded, he smiled and started to insist, "You should go, it's New Year's Eve, I bet Herrmann has something on at Molly's, if not I'm sure you've had loads of date requests."

"I'm more than happy spending the New Year with you," Severide came back with.

"Don't think you can anyway. Visiting's over at 8pm. Anyway… can't keep my eyes open. I'm no company for a celebration..."

"Well, I'll leave you then… will you have a proper breakfast to start off the New Year?"

"Erm…"

"I could bring something from the deli round the block if you didn't want hospital food? I'm on shift but I can…"

"I don't know." He averted his eyes, feeling guilty that he didn't even want to try but he was exhausted, his entire body was weak, he no longer felt so nauseous and really he knew he felt so tired because he wasn't eating enough but he couldn't bring himself to do as Severide wished, not yet.

"All right…" Severide tried to hide the disappointment from his voice. "Maybe another day."

* * *

The next morning Casey was sitting half inclined on the hospital bed, his eyes were closed but he was half awake. He heard the door go as someone came in but he didn't bother to open his eyes to find out who it was.

"Morning Matt," a kindly voice said to him. A voice he knew well. "Didn't think I was going to see you until tomorrow."

"Me neither," Casey replied tiredly.

Doctor Lyle Adams let out an audible breath as he sat down on the chair next to his patient. "What do you want to do, Matt? Want to talk to me? Want to sit in silence or…"

"I think you need to admit me," Casey muttered quietly, eyes now half open, watching Dr Adams' reaction.

"Why is that? Do you want to hurt yourself?"

Casey shook his head. "No."

"Are you having suicidal thoughts?" Adams continued with his questioning.

"No."

"Do you feel unsafe?"

Casey nodded and replied despondently, "Danger to myself."

"Because you're struggling to eat?"

Another nod.

"Admitting this is a big step forward, Matt, you were in denial, now you're not."

"I don't feel safe on my own," he admitted, "I don't think… I'm not strong enough to do this on my own… I need…"

"Boundaries? Rules?" Adams questioned, trying to paint a picture.

"I want to go home, don't want to be here, but I think I need to be here..." Casey frowned. He was so tired he was afraid he didn't really know what he meant.

"What's stopping you from going home? That's what you want so tell me what's stopping you, because I'm not,"

"You're not stopping me? You don't want to put me in psych? That's where I should be… I am crazy… I thought…"

"What did you think?"

"Few days ago I was completely paranoid, I thought I was gonna get attacked and… again."

"And raped again."

"Why's it so easy for you to say? Because it's never happened to you?"

"It's not a dirty word Matt, it's horrible act but saying it out loud, there's nothing wrong with that."

"I'm not denying that it happened, I'd just rather…"

"Forget about it?"

"Yeah… guess I can't do that 'til I get over it, get over it and stop worrying everyone, well… worrying Severide and you guys… I'm never going to tell anyone else… That's all right isn't it? I mean… if I sleep with someone do I have to tell them? Not that I'm gonna be sleeping with anyone anytime soon… not that anyone would want me… God…" he laughed, "I am a mess."

"You still don't have to tell anyone you don't want to."

"Not exactly a great conversation starter…" he commented. "Hi I'm Matt, I was…" he began mockingly but his eyes shifted, "I was… drugged, assaulted and… and raped… gang raped…" he ended at a whisper. "I was gang raped and I tried to kill myself. And would have succeeded if Kelly hadn't turned up… I'm glad he did because… because I'm not going to let this destroy me… I have let it destroy me but I'm gonna fix that. I'm gonna fix that."

* * *

When Severide went in to Casey's room after his shift had finished the next day his friend was lying on his side, facing away from the door, but Severide could tell he was awake by the way he was breathing. He walked in and sat down as he had each time, talking to him as normal. He unscrewed the top off his bottle of juice and took a mouthful.

"Casey, I spoke with Doctor Adams. You kept telling him you need to be locked back up in psych?" Severide spoke in a kind of matter-of-fact way. Casey turned over to face him. "I'm not saying that you should come home to mine because I'm trying to be nice. I'm saying it because I want you there with me. Not because it's just something people say, it's not some sort of platitude. You hated being on that ward, Casey. And you don't need it."

"I don't want to hurt you," Casey replied tiredly, his health had improved over the last couple of days in the hospital, but he still spent most of his time sleeping. Only now it was peaceful and dreamless. "I've already hurt you."

"You've worried me but you haven't hurt me," he reassured him. "Ok?"

Casey nodded, "Sorry for being…"

"Will you quit apologising," he grinned, shaking his head. "Right… I've got you some things from home, the doc reckons you'll be here for a couple more days so I thought some entertainment would be needed." He pulled out a couple of books and magazines, Casey's phone and a small bag of toiletries.

"Thanks Kelly, thanks for everything."


	10. The Future

Severide was standing by the open door to Casey's hospital room watching as the nurse went about her work. Neither she nor Casey had noticed he was there so he just stayed where he was, pleased to see that Casey was smiling and nodding, chatting to the nurse as she checked his IV line in his arm. Lying on the bed Severide could see how the thin hospital gown drowned Casey's previously athletic form, at home, and even on the psychiatric ward, he'd been hiding underneath baggy hoodies and sweatpants. The IV port must have been swapped over because Casey now had a dark bruise where it had previously been. She checked the line and the tube connection into the infuser and seemed satisfied that it was all working correctly.

"Guess what I've got for you now?" she questioned brightly, picking up the nutrient feed bag and hanging it from the IV pole. Casey just smiled politely. The nurse connected it up to his NG tube. "Comfortable? You need anything else?" she asked, looking at the almost empty water jug, "I'll get this refilled for you."

Casey's voice was low and hoarse but Severide heard him and his heart jumped. "Can I maybe get some real food..." he was asking, "Something small, maybe some cereal or yoghurt and fruit… I dunno…"

"Of course you can, Matt," the nurse beamed at him. "I'll go and get it sorted for you right now."

"Thanks," he said appreciatively

She picked up the jug and turned towards the door, seeing Severide, who pretended he had only just now arrived, he didn't want them to know he had been standing there watching. Severide grinned at her as she came through the door and he went in. "Hey..."

"Good morning," she replied as she passed to sort out the food and water.

"Yeah, yeah it is." Severide just nodded in agreement. It really was a good day so far, the first time he had heard Casey ask for food in a long time.

* * *

Casey and Severide were outside sitting on a bench outside the hospital wing that Casey had been confined again, but this time he had the freedom to come and go as he pleased. Severide had checked with the nurses and they'd okayed it for Casey to go and get some fresh air. He had been cooped up long enough and even though it was minus temperatures they felt it would be beneficial for him. He and Severide had wandered out into the grounds and found a sheltered spot in a small courtyard where there was a wooden bench beneath the shelter of some tall pine trees.

They had been sitting in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Casey, who was wrapped up in a gown and coat, spoke. "I've been thinking," he stated.

"Oh no," Severide mocked, laughing heartily.

"Ha very funny." Casey shook his head in amusement. "If you don't mind when they discharge me can I stay at yours still? I just... just think it'll be better than being on my own. You can say no of course, don't feel..."

"Matt, I assumed you were gonna be coming back with me," Severide told him, he smiled. "You know for an intelligent guy you can be real dense sometimes."

"Blame the lack of... lack of everything..." Casey laughed, lifting up his hand with the IV port still taped in place.

"Well, I shall repeat myself for the millionth time; you are welcome to stay as long as you need."

"Maybe until I'm back at work, I'll be back in a good routine then," he nodded.

"Back at work," Severide smiled. "Sounds like a good plan, Matt."

"Kelly…"

"All right?"

"It's freezing out here," he stated, "As much as I appreciate the fresh think we can go back inside?"

"Yeah," Severide smiled. "Think I'll go home and hit the gym this afternoon, that all right with you?"

"You don't need my permission," he replied flatly.

"You want me to bring you anything later? Or will my company suffice?"

"Your company will be just perfect," he smiled as he stood up on weak legs, he gripped the IV pole. "I'll go up on my own, no point in you making the trip. Enjoy the gym… I will enjoy sleeping." He did look like he needed some decent sleep.

"Can't," Severide stated as he stood up next to Casey.

"Can't what?"

"I'm under strict orders to keep an eye on you, never know what trouble you could get into on your own between here and the sixth floor," he grinned but Casey's face faltered and Severide realised what he'd just said. "God, Casey… I didn't… I shouldn't have… Sorry…"

Casey just composed himself and forced a smile. "You're right; I can't look after myself. That's been proven quite a lot recently." He turned and walked away.

Severide caught up with him in a flash. "Damnit Casey, you know I didn't mean anything by it…"

He turned around to face him. "I left that club on my own, at the time I thought I should have stayed with someone or asked to go back with someone…"

"That someone being me," Severide stated.

"You were having fun, it was your birthday, I didn't want to ruin that because I felt sick…"

"I knew you were leaving, if I had gone with…"

"Look Kelly, what happened that night wasn't your fault, it was… it _wasn't_ my fault either," he said with determination, "It just happened… it could have happened to anyone I guess."

Severide said nothing.

"Are you going to escort me back to my room or not?" he smiled.

* * *

Later during yet another long boring afternoon, Casey was walking near his room, determined to walk back and forth the length of the hospital corridor ten times as the nurse had asked him to. His steps were slow and laboured but at least he had managed to get up and out of bed. He was on his fifth length when his heart almost flipped out of his chest.

Shit.

What the hell was he doing here?

Casey had just looked up from concentrating his efforts on the walking and seen him. Of all the people to see him here.

Otis from 51.

Oh God.

Casey felt as if his legs would give way but he just kept on walking, trying to look as if he hadn't spotted the elevator man from his crew. But he knew damn well that Otis had seen him. And he had quite clearly been recognised. Otis looked as if he was going to approach Casey and had actually opened his mouth as if to speak to him. Casey just looked back down at his feet, concentrating on them as if his life depended on it, and he walked back into his room without a second glance in Otis's direction.

He hoped that Otis hadn't realised it was him but he knew in his mind that he had. And he'd had time to see how dreadful Casey looked. He knew what a total mess he was. He had caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror, he'd seen how grey his skin looked, how the rims of his eyes were darkened, how black rings encircled them. He looked gaunt and hollow-cheeked, his jawline had become sharp and his cheekbones were pronounced.

Casey closed the door to his room and hoped to hell that Otis wouldn't come over to try and see him. He could feel himself breaking into a sweat, his palms were sticky. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply, hoping against hope that he looked so bad that Otis couldn't be sure it really was him. But he knew that wasn't the case. Casey got himself back into his bed and pulled the covers up, turning onto his side so he faced away from the door, just in case Otis did show up at his room. At least he could just pretend to be asleep.

Severide turned up later in the day, as promised. But he found Casey quiet and withdrawn. Clearly something had happened to upset him and he was completely silent throughout the time that Severide was in his room. He just nodded or shook his head occasionally but couldn't bring himself to explain to the squad lieutenant what was going on. Instead Severide was left as mystified as he'd ever been throughout Casey's illness.

* * *

Severide was back at 51 and sitting in the common room the next day. Capp and Tony were immersed in a game of cards, Cruz was reading a book, Mouch was in his usual place on the couch channel hopping, Shay and Dawson were laughing over something they were looking at online and Herrmann was on his phone reading some messages from his kids.

Suddenly Otis's voice piped up. "So guys, guess who I saw yesterday?" No one even bothered to look up from what they were doing, disinterested in whoever it was Otis had apparently seen. That is until he continued on. "Our very own missing lieutenant," he announced.

Suddenly the common room was deadly silent and all eyes turned to Otis, sitting at the table. Severide looked up from his newspaper, a heavy scowl on his face. How in the hell could Otis possibly have seen Casey?

A flurry of conversation broke out.

"Dropped by Lakeshore to see my baba and there he was."

"What? With your baba?" Cruz asked, hardly able to believe what Otis had just told them.

"No idiot, he was a patient. Just walking along the corridor with a load of…" Otis replied.

"Hey Otis... enough," Severide warned from across the room, but his warning came too late. Everyone was curious now and wanted to know more.

"Was he ok?" Herrmann asked, his voice full of concern.

"Shouldn't think so, he was in hospital," Otis scoffed at Herrmann's daft question.

"Hey come on! You know what I meant," Herrmann replied swiftly.

Otis just shook his head, laughing. "Well, he didn't look ok. In fact he looked..."

"Otis that's enough now," Severide said firmly as he stood up, slapping the newspaper onto the table. "Do you think that maybe the reason Casey's not told you guys why he's there is because he wants some privacy? He doesn't want you lot gossiping about him." Severide's tone was markedly angry and he hoped he had just been able to nip this in the bud but he could still hear their hushed tones as he strode out of the room. He needed some air.

* * *

It was just a few minutes before 10am and there was still no sign of Severide. Casey was sitting on his bed wearing a fresh set of clothes that Severide had brought for him and his bag was beside him on the bed, packed up and ready to leave once the discharge papers had been signed. The doctor was coming to do that at any moment. Casey checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time in the last half hour. No messages or voicemails. Severide had said he would pick Casey up as soon as shift was over. Logic told him that Severide had most likely been delayed at work but his paranoia was in overdrive and his thoughts were gnawing at his mind. What if Severide had simply changed his mind after the secret Casey had told him the other day? What if he'd just decided he wanted no more to do with him because he was dirty and disgusting? His worries were carrying him away again, although common sense was telling him he was being ridiculous to even think that.

Casey looked up, startled, as his doctor breezed in. "Hi Matt, I believe I have a discharge form to sign for you," he smiled as he checked the documents over, signed the forms himself and passed them to Casey to counter sign. Casey did so and handed the clipboard back to the doctor. "Is someone coming over to pick you up?" the doctor asked.

"I'm getting a cab," Casey answered.

"Ok, well, you seem to have everything you need," the doctor told him, looking over the clear bag of medications and feed bags next to Casey's duffel bag. I shall you see you at your appointment next week, but if you need anything in the meantime, anything, then don't hesitate to call…"

"You or Doctor Adams," Casey nodded, "I know."

Less than ten minutes later Casey was outside the hospital. As he made his way down from the ward he had realised that he actually had no money for a cab, his wallet was still somewhere in Severide's apartment. So he guessed he'd be walking then. It was snowing again and he was clearly going to get very wet and very cold if he had to walk home, it was probably at least an hour's walk to Severide's place.

He heard his phone ping and he pulled it from his pocket. A voicemail had just come through. He trudged back under the shelter of the hospital doors and listened to the message, hearing Shay's voice speak.   
  
"Hi Matt, it's Shay. There's been an accident, it's Kelly..."

His heart sank, he'd been sat there on his hospital bed selfishly thinking that Severide had left him when he hadn't at all.   
  
"He's gonna be fine but they've admitted him for obs so we're all down at Gaffney. He just wanted me to let you know." There was a long pause before the message continued. "Erm, so I guess we'll see you soon then. Well, bye then."

* * *

Casey was finally walking into the waiting area on the fourth floor of the Gaffney Medical Centre, he saw Shay sitting on the far side, a cup of coffee in her hand. She looked up as he started to approach her. But he stopped in his tracks. He'd not seen anyone save for Boden and Severide for months. He was going to have to stop hiding eventually. He'd never have to tell anyone what had happened to him but there was a pit in his stomach that told him they'd all know anyway, that he had some sort of stamp on his forehead, or flashing lights around him. The rational part of him surmised that of course they'd know that something had happened to him but no one had told them, no one would tell them but he reckoned that someone would probably hazard a correct guess.

"Matt…" Shay's beautiful face broke into a huge grin, even though she had fully taken in how ill he looked. Frail even. His hair was wet with snow. Black shadows around his once bright eyes, he now had a sort of wincing frown on his paler than usual face, his clothes were damp and looked at least two sizes too big. But Shay, ever the diplomat, stood up with a smile and put her coffee down.  
  
Casey remained still as she walked quickly toward him. As she got close she put her arms out and pulled him into a tender hug, her hands softly circling the back of Casey's shoulders. He put down his bag and held his arms around her. He let out of breath, the tension he'd felt since he'd arrived left him and after a moment he pulled back and out of her reach.  
  
"So good to see you," Shay added as he stepped back.

"You too," Casey answered softly, sighing, mostly with relief.

"You look..." she began, but he cut her off before she could put her thoughts into words.

"I know…" he shook his head. "How's Kelly?"

Shay was still looking him up and down. "Erm… he's awake, he's gonna be just fine," she nodded as if to reinforce her words and convince herself more than anyone. "All the guys are in with him at the moment… I dunno if you wanna…"

"Think I'll just wait at the end of the hall," he smiled, picked up his bag and started to walk away, but Shay stopped him from behind with a hand on his arm. Her eyes widened with surprise when she felt him flinch and tense involuntarily and suck in a sharp breath.

"Matt, wait... everyone's missed you, ya know?'

Casey turned and nodded. "I've missed everyone."

Shay opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself, thinking better of what she had been about to say.

"You've been wanting to ask if I'm ok since you saw me," he stated, "It's all right. You can ask. You all have every right to ask because I've not…"

"Just like you have every right to privacy," she replied.

"I'm not ok, but that's easy to tell." Casey went on with a small shrug of the shoulders, always one to deflect.

"Otis saw you at Lakeshore the other day when he visited his grandmother," she explained.

"I know… I erm…"

"Couldn't face him?"

"No," Casey shook his head in agreement and then explained further, "I got discharged this morning… I don't have a key to Sevs place… or mine… or any money on me…"

"You walked here?" she quizzed without trying hide any concern.

"I'm exhausted," he scoffed self-deprecatingly.

"Come and sit down, I've got Kelly's car so I'll give you a ride back later," she smiled and he took of his wet coat and followed her to a seat.


	11. Stepping Forwards

**  
**"Matt," Severide's voice was a raspy whisper as he greeted his truck counterpart when he entered the hospital room.

"Hey," Casey smiled as he walked up to Severide's side.

"You don't have any keys…" he commented tiredly.

"Yeah… that's why I came here..." Casey let out a short laugh. "What happened?"

"Stairs gave way," he explained. "Why's your hair so wet?" he frowned.

Casey glanced up and down at him. "Shay told me you're gonna be fine?"

"Bit of smoke inhalation, concussion... still seeing double, always fun," he joked.

"Need anything?" Casey asked.

Severide answered with a small shake of his head. "What about you, Matty? How are you doing? I got Shay to message you as soon as I…"

"Kel it's fine. I'm ok," he responded, settling himself into the easy chair, making himself comfortable resting on the pillow someone had left lying there. "Just don't give me a scare like that again... ok? You're not allowed to get hurt."

"I haven't left you." Severide then grinned despite his obvious discomfort. "You thought I had. You thought I'd abandoned you in that hospital…"

"Ha no chance," he shook his head, "That thought never crossed my mind."

"You're a bad liar Matthew Casey."

Casey just laughed. "Thought they weren't gonna let me leave without you there... seeing as I'm such a danger to myself," he scoffed at himself.

"Nah, you're good bud," Severide told him.

"I guess," Casey replied but he didn't sound overly convinced. "You really ok?"

"Which one of you said that?" Severide asked, grinning, "You got a twin? I can see two of you..."

He laughed. "Get some sleep. I'm gonna stay here and crash for a while." Because now he was sat down he didn't think he was going to be able to get up anytime soon.

Severide grinned as his eyes closed. "Only cause you don't have any keys..."

"Yeah… that's the only reason I'm here," he smiled, "Now go to sleep."

But Severide had no intention of sleeping as he watched Casey's eyes close. His only intention at that moment was to keep a close watch on Casey. He was the one who needed sleep the most.

* * *

"Hey," Severide croaked out huskily as Shay entered his room later on.

"Hey yourself," she told him, walking to his bedside and leaning over to hug him, tears in her eyes. "Feeling a little better? Thought you were a goner when they carried you out…"

"Thought that myself," he replied softly. "Lucky it's not worse. Be back at work in no time." Severide smiled up at her as she held onto his hand. He felt as rough as hell but he'd had worse accidents than this and it wouldn't stop him for long. But his biggest worry was Casey and how he would cope on his own.

"You didn't answer my question; how you feeling?"

He smiled at her concern. "Fine. Casey needs to go home," he explained. "Can you stay with him until tomorrow... don't know if..." But he didn't need to elaborate further.

Shay just nodded firmly in that endearing way she had. "Of course, your wish is my command. Are there any other wishes you have?" she grinned, elegantly bowing, arms outstretched, making Kelly smile widely.

"Huh, well, all sorts... but none you can fulfil for me right now," he began. "And listen don't interfere…"

"What?"

"Don't interfere if he has a nightmare," Severide explained.

"Erm…" Her forehead creased into a frown.

"Just let him ride it out, most the time he doesn't remember."

Shay's gaze was directed at Casey who was sitting in the comfy chair a few feet away, sleeping, his head resting on a hospital pillow. He looked so peaceful.   
  
"Kelly what happened? He looks so ill. Not like himself at all... Earlier in the waiting area I just touched his arm and..." She bit her lip wondering, if she should just drop it but she was so worried about Casey. If she knew what had happened to him she would be able to help and to make sure she didn't do anything to upset or frighten him again. "It was like he'd been hit by a thunderbolt or something. He just turned to stone and looked really... well frightened. I've never seen him look frightened… not like that."

Severide sighed, "Look Shay, I can't tell you much because Casey doesn't want people knowing but if you're gonna stay with him I guess you have to know that he was... well... he was assaulted and…"

"Don't say it…" Shay warned. "Jesus Kelly… I wish I could have done something to help him. Oh my God… When?" Shay's hands clenched into fists and her teeth gritted in exasperation and concern for Casey.

"My birthday," he replied hoarsely.

"Lakeside?" Shay's voice was incredulous her eyes wide with shock at the revelation.

"Yeah," Severide nodded slightly. "He left early because he felt ill. But he wasn't ill… he'd been drugged. They got him outside and took him somewhere and... well you know what they…" Severide began to cough, the effects of the smoke inhalation, and Casey stirred slightly, but just shifted position on the pillow and settled again, a small moan coming from his slightly parted lips. His eyes didn't open.

"They?"

"Yeah 'fraid so…" Severide's eyes were on Casey now, "But he's ok now."

"No he's not, Kelly," she shook her head. "Just look at him... God, I can't believe what you've told me. And he kept on coming to work… We all knew something was going on with him. Dawson thought it was because of Hallie, and then because of her... does she know any of this?"

"No, and Casey doesn't want anyone knowing. I don't want him finding out that you know even… he might say something to you but I doubt it. You know what he's like with stuff. This almost killed him Shay…"

"I'll keep an eye on him, ok? Don't worry." She shook her head and pushed back a stray blonde bang that was getting in her face. "Guess I'll get him back to your place then. God Kelly... why the hell did it have to happen to Casey? You couldn't find such a good person, a more beautiful soul, anywhere…"

"We'll never know… he thinks he did something to make them do it and it's impossible to get him to believe he didn't… those bastards…" He coughed and spluttered, as he did he saw Casey sit up from his slouched position. "Time to get out of here, bud, way past visiting hours," Severide told Casey when his coughing fit subsided.

"You ok?"

"Well, you no longer have a twin so I'm gonna say yes," Severide grinned. "Shay's gonna stay at ours tonight, you guys really need to get going before they kick you out."

"I…"

"No protesting. I'll see you both tomorrow."

* * *

Casey trailed wearily behind Shay into Severide's apartment and kicked the door shut behind him. He dumped his bag down on the table and peeled off his jacket. Since they had left Severide at the Gaffney Medical Centre they had hardly spoken two words to each other and the drive back to Severide's place had been spent in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Casey didn't want it to be like that, didn't want her to be worrying about him now in addition to worrying about Severide. He sighed, wondering how exactly to broach the matter.  
  
In the end, he just came out with it. "I know Kelly told you," he commented, "I heard him."

Shay turned around, her face a mix of sympathy and apology for the indiscretion. "I'm sorry Casey, I pushed him for it and…"

"He did it in my best interests and yours… I've been known to knock people out when… when I have nightmares…" Casey's voice was quiet with a distinct measure of resignation about his words. "It was gonna get out eventually..."

"Matt, I don't really know what to say…" Shay shook her head. "Of course if I'd known I would never have grabbed your arm at the hospital the way I did..."

"But you didn't so not your fault. Boden knows… well he doesn't know what happened but he knows…" he trailed off. "I tried to kill myself. Kelly found me… that's how he found out what happened… short story of it anyway," he scoffed. "I don't want Boden to know why I did it… although I don't know what I'm more ashamed of…"

"You shouldn't be ashamed of either. It wasn't your fault. Not at all."

Casey laughed sardonically. "I was drugged and strapped down to a bed in the psych ward. Pretty sure that's gotta be something to be ashamed of…"

"Matt, you shouldn't ever be ashamed of any this. There is nothing for you to be ashamed of. It's those bastards that did it to you that should be ashamed. None of it was your fault," Shay was saying, stressing to Casey that he was in no way to blame for his assault.

"That's what everyone is saying… the doctors, Kelly, now you... but it's just not that simple," Casey told her, his face sad as he spoke, "And… and they've still gotta test me again for HIV in a few months… It'll never be over…" His eyes misted over and tears threatened to fall.

"It will Matt, it will be over soon, you just have to believe me and everyone. No one would ever say it was your fault, ever... hear me?" Shay insisted, moving to stand in front of Casey, and pulling him into a hug once more. His face was buried in her thick jumper as she held onto him. "I'm glad I know, ok? And I don't think any less of you. We are all here for you, you know that. We'll all do everything we can to help you. Always."

After a few long moments, Casey pulled back from the paramedic and wiped the tears away from his face. "Sorry…" he muttered, embarrassed at his weakness. His emotions were all over the place, he hated it. Hated breaking down in front of everyone. He sighed. "I get that everyone is trying to help me, but I have to help myself. I just can't see an end to this... well I did… but that wasn't a solution… that just hurt Kelly… would hurt everyone around me…"

"It will stop you know, the pain will lessen. You won't be able to forget it but you will learn to live with what happened. Same as any trauma..." Shay brushed her hands over his hair and smiled. "Listen, I'm gonna make some dinner now. What would you like? I'm sure l can rustle up something to tempt you..." She searched Casey's face for his answer.

He simply shook his head slightly, raising a hand to point at the NG tube still taped to his unshaven cheek.

"Ah ok then... I guess its dinner for one then, huh? Where's yours? Did they give you some bags to bring home?"

"I'm all sorted." He looked over to the bag he'd dumped down.

"Do I need to check you've…"

"No," he shook his head, "Not tryin' to kill myself anymore and really don't want to end up in hospital for a third time."

* * *

Whilst Shay went to collect Severide from Gaffney the next morning Casey stayed at the apartment and was attempting to make himself useful with some cleaning and tidying. He had decided not to tag along with Shay as he preferred to stay inside in the warmth and not venture into the plummeting sub-zero temperatures. His body struggled with the cold still and would continue to do so until he started to increase his weight and improve his muscle tone again.

A while later he heard Severide's voice as the apartment door opened and he walked in. "Told ya I was fine," he announced. "You good?" he asked quietly as Shay walked in behind him.

Casey nodded. "I made lunch," he smiled and nodded towards the table, "Eat…"

Severide and Shay took their damp jackets off and hung then up, and went to sit at the table. "This looks great Matt, thanks," Shay said as she helped herself to some of the sandwiches on plates.

Severide tucked in a moment later. "These are really good."

Casey smiled self-deprecatingly. "They're just sandwiches."

"You having any?" Shay asked him after a few more bites.

Casey had yet to take a seat at the table.

"Just one?" Severide urged.

"All right, instead of…" Casey shrugged, doubt creeping into his voice.

"No," Severide said immediately after Casey had spoken. "Not instead of anything. As well as, ok?" He eyed Casey as he looked over the food on the table, grimacing at the internal fight he was suffering.

"Not hungry," he said at length, turning and walking off to the sanctuary of his room, watched by the two at the table.

"Kelly, you want me to…" Shay began.

"Just leave him. It's been a roller coaster the last twenty-four hours, he just needs to settle."  
  
But Shay remained unconvinced and the look on her face gave her away.  
  
"He'll eat later. I know he will. He is trying Shay."

* * *

"Case?" Severide knocked on the truck lieutenant's door after he and Shay had finished their lunch. No response. So he pushed open the door and stepped inside. Casey was lying with his back to the door, an avoidance tactic he had tried while he was in hospital but Severide wasn't easily fooled. "Known you long enough to tell that you aren't asleep."

After a moment Casey turned over to face Severide and pushed himself into a sitting position. "You ok?' he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Casey," Severide responded.

"You're fine?" Casey questioned with a note of disbelief. "So you weren't in hospital last night then?"

"Were you all right last night?" he asked gently.

"Yeah I was fine, really," Casey replied quickly. "You been cleared for duty?"

"Nah, out for a few shifts," Severide lied. He had been cleared but he just wanted to spend some more time at home with Casey.

He just nodded and smiled. "Well, guess you're stuck with me then."

"Guess so," he grinned, "You gonna have some lunch now?"

"All right."

* * *

Later that day Severide was lounging around in the apartment after Shay had gone home. He felt in need of a visit to the bathroom to check on what Casey was up to. He padded along the hallway, still feeling incredibly stiff and sore from his accident. He could feel the heat from outside the door. "Case?" he knocked.

"Yeah?" Casey's voice shouted in response to the knock.

"You all right? Can I come in?"

"Sure," Casey replied, a little resignation in his tone.

The whole place was full of dense hot steam. Casey was still in the shower, where he seemed to have been for a long time. "Whoa... like a sauna in here! Not burnt yourself have you?" he called through the white clouds, coughing with the sheer heat, his chest still irritated from his recent smoke inhalation.

"No idea," came Casey's reply. But he stayed where he was under the red hot jets of water, oblivious of any damage it could be doing to his skin. Severide pulled back the shower curtain just a little and stuck a hand under the jets. "Kel…" Casey protested at the invasion.

"Jesus... turn it down. You'll burn under that!" Severide cast a practised eye over Casey's shoulders and back where his flesh was red but seemed to be free of any blistering.

Casey stuck out a hand and turned the dial down a couple of notches, not even opening his eyes. "Was just thinking about… had to get a shower..." he explained.

"That's all right, just maybe on a lower temp next time, yeah?"

"Yeah…"

"Although I'll admit it is one of your better coping mechanisms you've developed."

Casey laughed. "Guess so…"   
  
Resigned to the fact that Severide wouldn't be leaving him peace he turned off the shower and Severide passed him a towel to wrap around his waist when he stepped out.

"Let's have a better look, ok?' Severide said gently. Casey sighed inwardly and stood with his back turned while Severide checked more closely, "All good. Just be damn careful," he commented before stepping back. "Dinner's ready so better get dressed, unless eating naked is the latest fashion," Severide teased him.

Casey grinned. "Never was one for fashion." He was left alone to dress.

A few minutes later Casey appeared in the kitchen area, clad in jeans and a thick red sweater with sleeves that almost covered his hands. He still seemed to feel constantly cold despite just having had a hot shower and the central heating being turned up high.

Severide's phone pinged to announce a text. He looked up from the phone screen and asked, "Wanna go to Molly's later?"

Casey shook his head. "Don't think I'll ever want… be able to do anything like that ever again."'

Severide frowned. "You met me there in those weeks after… after my birthday?"

"Yeah…" he nodded, "I turned up, it was busy… so I pretended that my sister messaged me."

"Oh… don't remember that," Severide replied.

"I felt like I was going to have a panic attack… How the hell am I supposed to go back to work?"

"Hey you were fine on calls after... it happened. You were totally focused. Your head was in the game. Don't know how you did it. You are far stronger than I'd be in that situation, far stronger than I'll ever b,e Matty."

"Yeah and then look what happened. I tried to kill myself. That's not strong is it?" Casey sat back in his chair. "You should go tonight, you've not seen the guys since you were in the hospital, I'll be fine on my own. I'm all right."

"You sure about that?" Severide wasn't just asking him about tonight. He was asking about everything. "About being all right, I mean?"

"I'm not all right but I will be," Casey said quietly, nodding a little, almost to himself. "I mean… I don't think I'll ever just get over it, I'll never be the same again… but I will be all right."

"Yeah, yeah. Know what? You will be." Severide nodded with the quiet confidence of knowing that he was right. This time he could actually believe his own words.

 


End file.
